Trust Is A Two Way Street
by SoScuby
Summary: Sara and Catherine have to work a case together, only Sara is more involved than she lets on... CS brought to you by SoFrost and Scubysnak. Ch 34 Up
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** We don't own anything but those words...sadly

**Summary:** Sara and Catherine have to work on a case together, only Sara is more involved than she lets on...CS

**A/N:** We - scubysnak and SoFrost - have decided to united our brains to create a monster... I mean, a story ;). This is a team work so scubysnak is writing Catherine's point of view, I'm writing Sara's. It's a slash...a change for the both of us I think... lol :-p... Hope this little monster will be good...on for the show then :)

Enjoy,

So ;)

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Trust Is A Two Way Street…

**Chapter 1: Sara**

I crash my fist onto the snooze button of my alarm clock. Geez, I hate waking up. Come to think of it, I hate the waking state. At least when I sleep, I can dream that my life isn't as shitty as it seems. I sit on the edge of my bed and bury my face in my hands, just another bloody day.

And like every morning – well for most people it's technically the middle of the afternoon – I look at her side of the bed hoping that she'll be there sleeping soundly. I get up and go to the bathroom to have a shower. When I'm done fifteen minutes later, I get out and get dressed. Just like every other day, I see a pile of clothes that belong to her. And just like every other day, I tell myself that I should give them back to her, but I don't touch them.

I go into the living room and make myself breakfast, more out of habit than anything else. Actually it was her habit and she forced me into it. Anyway…

I feel like my apartment is haunted. I keep hearing her voice, her laugh. I picture us making love on my couch, cuddling on that overstuffed armchair where we both fit. I picture her dancing around and joking, teasing me, or us simply enjoying a day together. For nine months it was heaven. Too bad I ruined it, I guess. You know what they, say what you sow is what you reap.

Yep, I was in heaven for nine months, and now I've been living in hell for the last seven months. I never thought that it could hurt so much to feel my heart beating. But it does, it hurts and it's killing me.

Like every day when I have this little epiphany, I tell myself that I should ask her out and try to fix things. That I should tell her all those things she wanted to know so we can get back together and I can stop agonizing every time I breathe. That or find a new apartment.

I get ready and head to work. There's no point in staying home when she's not there with me anymore.

So, thirty minutes later I'm in the locker room clocking in early – for a change.

I'm in the break room for my first coffee break when she comes in with Nick and Greg at her side talking about her date yesterday. I take a deep breath and put on my brave face, time for the show.

"Hey Sara." the boys greet me at the same time. She smiles at me and sits next to me on the couch, while Nick, ever the gentleman, pours everyone a cup of coffee.

"Hey there." she says to me.

"Hi Cath," I answer back. "Sounds like you had a hot date yesterday." I say as cheerfully as I can. I'm glad we managed to stay friends, but I can't help feeling a knife stabbing me straight in my chest every damn time I hear that she's seeing someone – especially since that someone isn't me.

"Well, not hot but definitely nice. " she tells me with a soft smile.

"Here you go my lady." Nick says offering her a cup of coffee.

"Thanks Nicky boy." She winks at him and he smiles in return.

"Anyone I know?" I ask her. It kills me to hear about it, but I need to know that whoever it is hasn't taken my place, that as nice as they are they can't compare to me.

"You remember Jenny?" she asks with a frown.

"The girl from the book store you told me about?" I feign ignorance, but I remember, because every name burns a hole in my heart making me mad with jealousy.

"Yeah, that one."

"How is it going?" I ask nonchalantly.

"Hey girls." Warrick says coming in before turning his attention to Nick and Greg. Catherine and I greet him back at the same time.

"Well, it's going fine. We're taking things slow. Yesterday was our fourth date. She sweet, funny, open, we talk a lot you know."

Even now I can feel the reproach in her voice. I didn't talk to her as much as she wanted me to. I force a smile on my lips "That's great." I lie. "Are you happy?"

"Yeah, I think you could say that." she blushes.

"I'm happy for you then." One more time I lie. I'm not happy. I want to scream out of rage and hurt, but then again it's my fault if things are the way they are now.

"What about you?"

"Well, nothing new under the sun." I reply with a tight smile. That's not totally true, I'm seeing someone but I can't say I'm in a relationship. Well, it's a complicated relationship, but I don't want to talk about it.

"Good evening, everyone. Alright assignments are up : Nick, Warrick and Greg, DB near the desert. Catherine, Sara suspicious circs at Henderson. Rock and roll kids." Grissom announces joyfully, giving us our slips of paper before disappearing in his office again.

"Do you mind driving?" I ask Catherine.

"Are sure you're okay?" she teases me.

"I'm a bit tired actually," I answer. "I have to get something from my locker. I'll meet you at the car." I say as she starts to walk out with the guys.

Once I'm in the locker room, I make sure I'm alone before hitting my locker hard. Maybe soon I'll be sick of feeling my heart bleeding openly because we're apart, and maybe then I'll give her what she expected from me.

Yeah right. Who am I kidding? There are some things that are better left unsaid.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Catherine**

"So, then we went to that little Italian bistro," I was busy going over the details of my date from the previous evening with the guys as we walked toward the break room.

"Is that the new place over on Haiger?" Nick asked. I nodded in agreement. "Wow! Rick told me that Tina's been after him since the doors opened on that place to take her there. Is it as romantic as she seems to think it will be?"

"Incredibly romantic. But that wasn't even the best part of the whole night," was all I managed to say before my eyes on fell on Sara as we walked into the break room. As much as I hate to admit it, my heart still belongs to her and I don't want to discuss my dates around her. Not that hearing about them seems to bother her, but I'd rather not have to see her _not_ bothered by it.

I smile at her and move to sit beside her on the couch. "Hey there," I manage to say. I have to remind myself not to get lost in those chocolate pools as I briefly make eye contact with her. _Damn, I miss her._

She answers, "Hi Cath. Sounds like you had a hot date yesterday."

I smile softly, "Well, not hot, but definitely nice." On the inside I'm thinking, _it would have been perfect if it had been you with me_.

Unfortunately, Sara doesn't seem as eager as I am not to talk about my date. "Anyone I know," she asks.

I frown at her question. "You remember Jenny?"

"The girl from the bookstore you told me about?"

God, why does she have to be so nonchalant about all of this? "Yeah, that one."

"How's it going?"

_How's it going? I'm miserable without you. If you had just opened up to me, we wouldn't be sitting here talking about my date with someone who isn't you and who pales in comparison to you. _

"Well, it's going fine. We're taking things slow. Yesterday was our fourth date. She sweet, funny, open, we talk a lot you know." I'm sure that came out harsher than I actually intended.

We spend the next few minutes mired in small-talk about our mutual happiness. I lie when she asks if I'm happy and bide my time until Grissom comes in with assignments.

He puts the boys on a case together and then sends Sara and me out to a suspicious circs in Henderson. As we're leaving the break room, she does something curiously un-Sara-like. She asks me to drive.

xxxxx

Twenty minutes later we're on our way to Henderson when I look over and notice that she's rubbing her hand.

"What happened?" She looks up at me with confusion. I point to her hand. "You keep rubbing your hand and even a blind person would be able to tell that it's swollen. What happened? It wasn't like that when we were in the break room." Concern fills my voice. I can't help it. I'm all too familiar with Sara's self-destructive ways. Although she's never backed away from a verbal sparring with me, she holds everything inside and then eventually snaps. And it's never pretty when Sara snaps.

"It's, uh….nothing," she flashes a fake smile at me and then tries to flex her wrist. "See?" The tightening of her jaw tells me she's in pain. The stern look I give her lets her know that I'm not about to drop this issue. We may no longer be lovers, but I still love her. _I'm still in love with her._ "Fine, I hit a locker in the locker room."

"Sara, why did you do that?"

At that moment, her cell started to ring. She looked at me for a few more seconds before digging the phone out of her pocket. She looked at the caller ID and her shoulders sagged.

"Sidle," she said quietly into her phone. She had managed to turn her back to me in an effort to gain whatever privacy she could for her conversation.

"Hey, Adin…I'm working….No, I'm on my way to a scene in Henderson with Catherine…No, I haven't forgotten about this weekend…He approved for me to be off Friday through Tuesday….I'm looking forward to it, too, babe…Alright….I'll call you when I get off later…."

I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the conversation I had overheard. After she snapped her phone shut and stuffed it back in her pocket, she turned back around in her seat. "What?"

I wanted to ask. I really did. My curiosity was about to get the best of me. "Nothing new under the sun, huh?" I echo her words from earlier in the evening.

Sara just sat there and looked at me with an expression that can best be described as that deer in the headlight look.

"I….uh…."

I always found a flustered Sara endearing. "So, you have the weekend off?"

"Huh?" I think I caught her off-guard. "The weekend? Yeah. I'm off tomorrow through Tuesday."

"Sounds like you have big plans. Wanna share?" _Please don't let her be going off on some romantic weekend getaway._

"Not really," she sighed heavily before turning to look out her window. "I mean, no big plans. Just taking a little trip with a friend."

She was definitely being elusive. I really wanted to continue to press her for more information, but at the same time, I didn't want to know. Then again, I am a bit of a masochist.

"That sounds nice. You deserve to get away every now and then. Where are you going?"

Sara shifted nervously in her seat, but never made eye-contact with me. "I'm, uh, going hang-gliding in the Grand Canyon with a friend."

"You? Hang-gliding? With a friend?" This didn't sound like the Sara Sidle I knew.

"Yeah, me, hang-gliding, friend."

"Just a friend?" I knew instinctively that my heart was about to be broken. In our time together, we had never managed to take any trips together. She had always refused to take time off. And here she was, taking four days off to spend with someone.

"No. Yes. Cath. Look, let's not get into this. I don't want to fight…"

I cut her off. "We're not going to fight about this. I know you've been going out with people since we broke up and so have I. I just can't get over you taking time off to go on a trip with someone. Wanna tell me about her?" I put on the best smile I could fake.

She smiled in return and let out the breath she had obviously been holding. "Well, her name is Adin."

"Been seeing each other long?"

"We're not really _seeing _each other. But, we've known each other about six weeks. We don't get to spend an incredible amount of time together. Her job is….well…..as demanding as ours."

"Really? What does she do?" I couldn't help but think that she's probably some perky, beautiful, young doctor, lawyer, or some other do-gooder that would sweep my Sara off of her feet.

She chuckled and said, "No one ever believes me when I tell them." I immediately frowned because it meant that she had shared this information with others—someone other than me. "But, she works on UAVs--unmanned aerial vehicles. Basically, she's a rocket-scientist."

My jaw must've dropped when she said that. _Sara's dating a rocket-scientist._ _Just fucking great…_

Just as I put the truck in park, Sara exclaimed, "Oh goody. We're here." She was out of the truck in seconds and had already retrieved her kit while I was still processing the fact that she was dating a rocket scientist. I'm dating the girl in the bookstore and Sara is dating a rocket scientist. That little voice in the back of my head always suspected that Sara had to dumb herself for me. Now, my suspicions had been confirmed.

I gathered my thoughts and my kit and proceeded to process the scene alongside Sara. We always made a formidable team in the field. We had been processing the scene for half an hour when the owner of the house returned.

As she approached Detective Vega, Sara nudged me and pointed to the woman's clothes. "Look at her skirt and shoes. They're covered in blood."

I left Sara collecting evidence on the front porch and door and approached Vega. "Ma'am, I'm Catherine Willows with the Las Vegas Crime Lab." I held out my hand to her, but she rebuffed me.

"I was just explaining to Ms. Ladford here that one of her neighbors called about the blood covering her front door and porch. She says that it's not human."

About this time, Sara joined us. "It's not human. What happened here Ms. Ladford?"

"I'm not completely sure what happened before I found it, but I heard this loud thump against my door. I opened it and there was this dog, covered in blood, lying on my rug. There was blood smeared all-over the bottom of the door. I think he must've been jumping on it or fell against it…something. Anyway, I just got back from the local veterinarian's office. I took him there thinking they might be able to do something for him. I couldn't stand to see it in pain. The vet had to put him down." The woman was wringing her hands as she explained to us what had happened.

"Could you give us the vet's name so that we can verify this?" Vega asked the woman.

She reached into her purse and pulled out a sheet of paper. She shoved it into Vega's chest and said, "Here's the damn receipt." With that, she turned on her heels and walked through the front door of her house.

Sara and I just stared at each other and shrugged.

"I guess you guys drove out here for nothing," Vega added as he walked away.

Our drive back to the lab was mostly in silence. I hated the silence. I had so many questions. What did this Adin look like? How old was she?

"Go ahead," she said effectively breaking the silence.

"What?"

"You obviously have questions. Ask them. You never were good at hiding what you were thinking, Cath. If you want to know something, all you have to do is ask. If I'm not comfortable answering them, I'll tell you."

_If only she had been this open when we were a couple._

"How did you meet her?"

"In an astrophysics chat room online."

"Tell me about her."

"Her name is Adin Spector. She's 31 and from Long Island originally. She has a master's degree in aerospace engineering from MIT and is a Captain in the Air Force. For the last two years, she's been working on UAVs. Anything else?"

"Are you happy?" _I want her to be happy, but I wish I was the one making her happy._

She smiles at me, obviously considering her response to my question. "Yeah, I think I'm happy."

I smile back at her and wonder when I became so good at masking my true feelings. "Good. It makes _me_ happy to know that you've found the happiness you deserve. Just one more thing. How are you supposed to go hang-gliding with your hand like that?"

She looked down at her hand and then back at me, "I'll be strapped to her. I'm just along for the ride."

_Great. She'll be strapped to this young, MIT grad, Air Force Captain._

I managed not to ask anymore questions as we finished our drive back to the lab.

xxxxx

Once back at the lab, we went in search of the guys to make a "report" of what we had found—or in this case, didn't find.

Unable to locate the guys in any of the labs or in the break room, Sara and I decided to seek out Grissom. As we approached his office, we could hear the entire team chatting with him. Sara pushed the door open and stepped inside.

"Sara, just the person we were looking for," Grissom said as she stepped further into the room. I stepped in behind her and immediately assessed that our team was not alone. On the couch in Grissom's office sat two unfamiliar faces. All eyes were on Sara, including mine.

I noticed what no one else in the room did. Sara's right eye-lid was twitching and I could see that vein in her neck prominently. Something wasn't right.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey thanks for your reviews! Anonymous reviews are enable now thanks to **scuby**, I'm sorry for those who tried to review but couldn't, I just forgot to enable it before when I was the one in charge for the settings...sorry guys... Anyway, on for chapter 3 then...**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

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Chapter 3: Sara **

"Sara, just the person we were looking for," Grissom said to me as I was making my way in his office with Catherine a minute ago.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. That was all I could think when I laid eyes on them: Spencer and Liam.

Years of hiding my emotions helped me not to show how panicked I really am at this moment. I haven't said a single word for two whole minutes and I can feel the eyes of everyone burning me.

All the team is there in Grissom's office for some reason I don't know. But if there's an answer, I'd like to have right now it's: what the hell are Spencer and Liam doing here?

Those two men figure on the list of the persons I'd give anything not to see again. I'm ready to have my organs removed without anesthesia if that means I don't have to see them again. That should tell you where I'm at.

I compose myself quickly and turn my attention to Grissom again. "Someone care to tell me what's going on?" I say in a fake relaxed tone. With the exceptions of Catherine, Spencer and Liam, no on else could be able to call on my bluff.

"These are two FBI agents. We might have some conflicts of interest here." Grissom states pointing Spencer and Liam on his couch.

"Ms. Sara Sidle, I suppose you remember us? Agent…"

"Spencer Hackers and Liam Novacek." I cut him off. I shake both of their hands before taking a step back. "Grissom, I understood you were looking for me. What is that all about?"

"The call your co-workers answered tonight turned out to be related to a case my team and I have been on for quite some time now," Spencer answers.

"I still don't see what that has to do with me," I state curtly.

"They want to take us off this case," Warrick growls.

"Once again, gentlemen – it isn't your case, but ours," Spencer says calmly.

"Oh please, we've been working on it…"

"For the last four hours," Spencer cuts him off. "It represents two years of our time. So please, don't make me laugh." He heaves a sigh, "As Mr. Grissom said a minute ago, we are facing some conflicts of interest. This is a very high profile case, so everyone here knows the consequences that such a case could have on each of your careers, not to mention this lab."

He gets up from his place on the couch. He walks to the bookshelf and looks at 'Percy' – Grissom's embalmed fetal pig.

"I do understand Mr. Grissom's hesitance to let go of this case. However, as I was mentioning it, this case represents two years of hard work for the FBI. Now, there are two options. First option: None of you gets to work on this case The FBI keeps it and works it without your help and the case is closed as far as this lab is concerned. Second option: I accept your _help_ on this case –meaning that you can do fieldwork and work with the FBI until we reach a closure. But there's one condition attached to this option," Spencer marks a pause for the dramatic effect. "You're the condition, Ms. Sidle." He says looking at me intently.

"I'm not sure I understand," I reply with clenched teeth.

"If I have to work with someone from this lab, it will have to be you." He states flatly.

"Agent Hackers, any member of my team is qualified for this job, so…"

"Mr. Grissom, don't get me wrong. I'm not questioning any of your men's skills as a CSI. This is one of the finest labs in the country, if not the finest. So any CSI working here is among the cream of the crop. You are a leader –just like me. You know that the efficiency of a team rests on trust and the harmony between each of the members. We don't have the luxury of time here, so I don't have time to get to know your men and learn how they work. However, I have worked previously with Ms. Sidle. I trust her and know how she functions, hence her being the only one I'll accept to work with my team. If she refuses to work on this case, then no one from this lab gets to work on it. I want you to keep in mind that it's not an offer here, but a favor I'm making to you." Spencer finishes his little speech.

Once again all the attention turns to me. I can see the boys silently begging me to refuse the offer out of solidarity. "Can I have a word in private with the agents please?" I ask Grissom avoiding Catherine's eyes.

"Sure."

I exit the room and turn in the first empty lab I find. I can feel Spencer and Liam following me silently. As soon as we're in the lab, Spencer sits on the edge of the table while Liam goes to the window. Once the door is closed and we have some privacy, I let my anger burst. "What the fuck is going on here? What are you playing at? And what the fuck are you doing here?" I spit.

Spencer chuckles lightly, "Hi Spence and Liam. It's been a while. How are you two doing? I'm so glad to see you." He says in a fake joyful tone.

"Don't you mess around with me now, Spence!" I reply. I'm well aware of the glass walls and of the fact that everyone is watching us, so in spite of my anger, my body language is calm and composed.

He lied earlier when he said that we had worked together before. Sure we know each other, but not from work. He and Liam were my friends a long time ago. We met a little before high school. Unfortunately, we were involved in a rather sordid incident. After that, nothing was ever the same.

Some people say that we all have skeletons in our closet. Well, there's a dead body in mine – among other things.

"It's been what? Eight years since we last saw each other?" he sighs "That's a long time don't you think? It's good to see you," he tries again.

"Wish I could say the same. Now get to the point," I say through clenched teeth.

"Fine," he says before putting a file on the table. "Take a look, and tell me if it reminds you of anything."

I get to the table and open the file. I feel nausea invading me as my brain processes the images my eyes are sending it.

It can't be.

"That's impossible," I mumble.

"Trust me it isn't," Spencer says.

"It doesn't mean anything. It could be a copycat or something." I think aloud.

"Whoever is behind this, knows about our dirty little secret Sara," Liam's grave voice resounds into the silence.

"So you still know how to speak," I say to him. He turns to me and smiles a little humorless smile at the barb before joining us around the table.

"Two years ago when all this began, it was random and disorganized. I think it was some sort of rehearsal for something bigger. Six months ago, each one of us started to receive messages. You're the last on the list, so I advise you to check your mail when you get back to your apartment." Liam continues.

"What kind of messages?" I ask.

"An envelope with pictures of the bodies, a piece of newspaper, and a note saying 'it's time'," Liam elaborates.

"It's time?" I repeat. "Time for what?"

"If I had to take a guess, I'd say it's payback time," he answers. "We have blood on our hands Skim." He adds using my long lost nickname.

"It was an accident," I protest.

"Whatever, we're responsible for Ronald's death," Spencer says harshly. "Listen, we're walking on a thin line here, so let's avoid the risk, because I don't want this can of worms to be opened."

"What about Aaron?" I ask.

"Like I said, he received the messages as well. We're meeting him in two days," Liam answers.

"And now what?" I inquire.

"We have to find him," Spencer says.

"Him?"

"We've created a profile. It's a man in his mid-thirties, pretty tall, and athletic. He's the kind of person you'd give your trust to instinctively. He's patient and has an education. He's pretty smart," Liam answers methodically.

I pass a hand over my face. This is a nightmare. I walk out of the lab. "I'll meet you back in Grissom's office in a minute," I tell them before heading to the rest room. I splash some cold water on my face and look at my reflection. I'm scared shitless. My worst secret is coming to the surface. I'm doomed.

I compose myself before joining everyone in Grissom's office again. "I'll do it," I announce emotionlessly as I enter the room. I can see Warrick, Nick and Greg shaking their heads in disbelief. I've just betrayed them. They snort and leave the room without a word, but not before sending me an irate look.

"Fine, but Catherine will be with you on this case as well," Grissom says firmly.

Spencer snorts, "Mr. Grissom, I thought I had been clear on the options."

"You were. Now, let me be clear. I don't trust you, so there's no way in hell I'm letting one of my guys work solo with you. Catherine is my guarantee, she's efficient and reliable. Take it or leave it." Grissom states in a tone that leave no room for argument.

"Well, it's not up to me. Do you trust her, Ms. Sidle?" he asks me. We both know the real meaning of this question. Saying yes would mean that I risk Catherine finding out about my past. And if I dare to say no, I know all hell will break loose.

I can feel Catherine's look of surprise burning a hole through my face as I don't answer straight away. I'm trapped here. I clench my jaw and look away. "I do," I finally answer.

"So be it then. You have two days to know those files by heart. Then, we'll all be leaving for California. Liam will stay in touch with you," Spencer says. "Mr. Grissom," he says as he leaves the room.

Liam turns to us. "I'll send a copy of the files over. They are really substantial. We'll meet tomorrow if you have any questions. Remember what I said," he tells me. I just nod.

"Ladies, Mr. Grissom," he salutes us before leaving the room as well.

"So much for trust Sara!" Catherine spits at me instantly. Damn, I'm so not in the mood to deal with her.

"I'd like to go home if you don't have any objections," I say to Grissom, avoiding Catherine's eyes.

"You can go. But Sara, I want to see you before you have to leave."

"Yes sir," I reply before turning around and heading out.

This is a nightmare.

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**Thanks for reading.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Catherine**

She hesitated. She didn't immediately answer yes when he asked her if she trusted me.

As soon as that pompous ass walked out, I couldn't contain myself any longer.

"So much for trust, Sara!" We spent nine months together, and she hesitates when asked if she trusts me? I'm still standing there with a look of disbelief on my face when she speaks up.

"I'd like to go home if you don't have any objections." She avoids looking at me when she asks Grissom.

"You can go, Sara. But I want to see you before you have to leave." I'm very pissed off by this point.

She merely says, "Yes, sir," and then turns and leaves.

As soon as she's gone, I turn to Grissom. "What the fuck was that all about?"

He takes his glasses off and sits them down on his desk as he begins to rub his temples.

"Catherine, you heard as much as I did. You know no more and no less than I do."

"I'm not talking about the case, Gil. Fuck! You don't see what just happened here, do you?"

He shakes his head obviously unsure of the point I'm trying to make. "What's your point, Catherine?"

I stand up, shaking my head as I turn to leave his office. When I get to the door I turn back around. "You really have no idea what goes on in this lab, do you?"

With that, I turn and leave.

I storm into the locker room looking for Sara. She is busy changing clothes and doesn't even look up to see who has come in.

"See something you like, Cath?" She flashes me a smug grin before pulling her shirt over her head.

I have to try hard not to gasp. As innocent as it is, the simple gesture of pulling her shirt off has always taken my breath away. "Nothing I haven't seen before," I say. I have been leaning against the lockers with my arms crossed over my chest, but push myself off and advance towards her. "Just what was that all about back there Sara?"

"He asked me if I trusted you. I said I did. Did you want me to say no?" She slams her locker shut and turns to face me.

"I'm not talking about the fact that you said you trusted me. I'm talking about how long it took you to say that you did." My shoulders sag as I say, "Sara, what's really going on here?"

Once again, her eye-lid twitches. "What's going on is that we're going to be heading to California soon and I want to go home and sleep before we have to go over those files. Is that okay with you?"

She walks toward the door. I can't let her leave without finding out what is _really_ going on here. I grab her arm, stopping her short.

"Sara! You're lying." Brown eyes flash in anger as I say these words. "Your eye-lid is twitching. It did the same thing when you saw those two agents in Grissom's office."

A smile plays on Sara's lips as she considers what to say to me next. "I think you must be confusing me with your new girlfriend. I haven't lied to you about anything."

"Sara?"

"What?"

I have known Sara long enough to know when to drop an issue. I'm not going to get any further with her on this particular topic today. "Don't forget to call your girlfriend and let her know you can't make your trip this weekend." Two can play at bitchy!

xxxxx

The next morning I'm at the lab bright and early when Warrick comes in for a refill on his coffee.

"What's up, Cath?"

I look up from the file I am already familiarizing myself with to speak to him. "Oh, hey Rick. I'm just going over the files on this case."

"The one with the FBI?" The disappointment in his voice is thick.

I groan, "Yes, the one with the FBI. Look, Rick, I didn't ask for this. Sara accepted their offer and Grissom said that the only way she could work it was if I worked it with her."

"I know, Cath," he says as he sits down. "It kinda pissed me, Nick and Greg off that she agreed to work that case. And actually, I'm surprised you agreed to this. We all know how much you hate the FBI." He cocks his head in my direction.

I don't look up at him, instead I focus on the papers in my hands.

"You still got it for her bad, don't you?"

"It's nothing like that, Rick," I heave a sigh before putting the papers down and turning to face him. "Something about this just isn't right." I can tell he wants me to explain, so I continue. "When we walked in there yesterday, she knew who those guys were."

"Cath, they said they had worked a case with her before. Of course she knew them."

"No, it was something else. Her eye-lid twitched and she has this vein in her neck that kinda pops out."

"And this is supposed to mean what to me?" I can tell that Warrick isn't as convinced as I am that something is going on.

"Those are her tells. I could always tell when she was lying because one those would give her away. And to top it off, when that Spencer asked her if she trusted me, she hesitated."

Rick stands up, shaking his head. "I don't know, Cath. If I had the past—the recent past—with you that she does, I might have hesitated as well. I think you're reaching here, girl."

"Reaching for what?" Sara asks as she walked into the room.

Taking that as his cue to leave, Rick bade us both goodbye and hightailed it out of the break room leaving Sara and I alone.

"Discover anything of interest in those files?" Sara asks as she sat down across from me and pulls a case file toward her.

"This 'Crazy Hatter' is one sick fuck," I say to her. "He not only rapes and kills his victims, but afterwards, he dresses them up like dolls, puts a Queen of Hearts playing card on their chest and a pendulum in their hand."

I look up to see Sara's eyes closed and once again that eye-lid is twitching.

I reach across the table and cover her hand with mine. "Sar, you okay?"

Her eyes flash in anger once again. "I'm fine, Cath." She pulls her hand away from me. "This is going to be a tough case."

"Yeah, I know." I go back to looking through the file in front of me. "So, what case did you work with those two agents?"

"Huh?" She sits there in stunned silence. "What case?"

"Yeah, they said they had worked with you before. What case did you work with them?"

I can see her struggling to come up with an answer.

"It was…uh…back when I was …"

"…in California. Sidle worked with us on a bank robbery in California." We both turn and look to see Liam Novacek. "We're not here to talk about the past though, unless it's something that's going to help us catch this killer. Right, Ms. Sidle?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello everybody, first thanks for your reviews you're awesome ;)... Then here are the two new chapters, the mystery is getting thicker...(ooh sounds suspenseful... :-p )...**

**Enjoy,**

**So and Scuby ;)

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Chapter 5: Sara**

"So, what case did you work with those two agents?" Catherine asks me.

"Huh?" I sat there in stunned silence. "What case?" There's no case, I never worked with Spencer and Liam. And it never occurred to me that Catherine would ask. Of course she's Catherine so nothing escapes her notice. Now what? I can't even come up with yet another lie.

"Yeah, they said they had worked with you before. What case did you work with them?"

"It was…uh…back when I was …" I started evasively.

"…in California. Sidle worked with us on a bank robbery in California." We both turned to the door and looked to see Liam. "We're not here to talk about the past though, unless it's something that's going to help us catch this killer. Right, Ms. Sidle?" He says with a subtle smile. I try not to give away my great relief, but I can feel Catherine's piercing eyes on me. I don't think she has taken the bait.

Bless this man for his ever so perfect timing.

"Ladies, good morning." He greets us. He looks at the table and sees the files "Is there a more private place we can take this meeting to?"

"Well, the conference room is free right now," Catherine answers.

"Lead the way," Liam says with a little smile before taking the files and letting both Catherine and I walk in front of him.

Once we are settled in the room, Liam closes the door. Catherine and I sit on opposite sides of the table. "I suppose you have taken a look at the files."

"I did, but Sara just arrived so…" Cath starts.

"They showed them to me yesterday," I cut her off sharply.

Liam starts to tell us how it all started. All the time, Catherine listens with interest and asks questions. Sometimes Liam and I make sure she doesn't get too nosy about the case. We sidetrack her smoothly, but it's just a matter of time before she catches on to our little game, Liam and I both know it. Liam explains the killer's MO and gives us a profile.

"Well, you still have a little time to get acquainted with the details. I'm going to stick to the big picture here. We have to deal with someone who is really smart, thorough, patient and worse of all, unpredictable. He's really discreet, really calm and controlled. Nothing is left to hazard. The victims are randomly chosen. He looks like the everyday reliable guy, the kind of guy you'd trust almost immediately, so they couldn't see it coming. We guess that he stalks them for a while just to make sure he has the perfect opportunity. Then he drugs the victims so they don't resist, but they're still conscious. Once he has satisfied his compulsion, he kills them. One shot of air in their veins, so they stay beautiful. Then he dresses them up, and finds a place to stage his little scene."

I have my jaw so tightly clenched that I'm afraid the pressure is about to break it. It takes all my strength not to puke or just hit a wall.

"Why the 'Crazy Hatter'?"

"Ask your girlfriend, working in a bookstore she would know." I say in a low tone. Catherine's head snaps toward me. She has fire in her eyes, I can feel the 'fuck you' vibes oozing from her.

"It's a reference to a children tale _Alice's Adventure in Wonderland_." Liam says flatly not giving Catherine a chance to reply.

"Time is a weird notion in Wonderland. It's almost a living person. There's a character, the White Rabbit, who's obsessed with time, claiming to always be late and he always looks at his pendulum. Then there is the Mad Hatter, stuck at tea-time, and the meanest character is the Queen of Hearts." I say letting my knowledge of the book speak. I've always loved this book. As a matter of fact, it's my favorite and when I was younger, I was obsessed with this book.

"All the pendulums indicate…" Liam starts.

"Six o'clock, to the dot. The Mad Hatter is stuck at six o'clock, condemned to live the same moment: tea time." I add.

Catherine's pager goes off and breaks the tensed silence. She looks at the message and gets up. "Grissom wants to see me. Excuse me," she says before leaving the room, leaving me alone with Liam.

"We're going to have our hands full with her," Liam states suddenly.

"What do you mean?" I ask him with a frown.

"You can't lie to her, and she doesn't strike me as a brainless woman."

I sigh and bury my face in my hands before getting up from my seat. "Tell me something I don't know." I say in a frustrated tone. Why did Grissom pick her over the rest of the team! There's nothing I can do now, I'm trapped. This case is based on a whole web of lie. If I want to protect my secret and Catherine, I'll have to lie to her. I don't like that.

"I had the envelope, just like you said. The pictures, the piece of newspaper and the note. What disturbs me is the piece of newspaper, I don't get the message."

"Well, the guy likes to play, so I suppose it's a puzzle made of four parts. It might get clear once we have Aaron's piece," Liam says calmly.

I look at him intently in silence. "I missed you." I confess.

I know I said that he was on the list of the last people I ever wanted to see, but that's not really true. I always considered him a brother. In spite of everything, he and I have kept touch, but it's the first time we've seen each other since I moved to Vegas.

"I remember hearing a totally different song yesterday," he says with a little smile that is uniquely his.

"I was speaking to Spencer then," I say honestly. "It's really good to see you."

"It's good to see you too Skim," he answers with a warm, genuine tone.

"By the way, thanks for earlier. You've always had a perfect timing."

"Almost always," he states sadly. A heavy silence surrounds us as we relate to that moment in time where his timing had failed us. "Sorry," he adds.

"How about breakfast at my place tomorrow morning?" I propose, closing the topic.

"Sounds good," he winks at me.

"Alright, I'm back," Catherine says as she enters the room again. She stops in her track and gives us a weird look. It's only then that I realize how close Liam and I are. Liam puts his stoical professional mask on again and takes a step away from me.

"Well, unless you have any more questions, this meeting is over," he says icily.

"I'm good." I reply.

"I can't think of any more questions," Catherine says.

"Fine. Our plane leaves at 3 p.m. tomorrow. I'll be waiting for you at the airport at two thirty." Liam announces, both Catherine and I nod in response. "Ladies," he salutes us then leaves in silence.

"I have to see Grissom," I say as soon as I'm alone with Catherine. I don't want to face her inquisitive questions right now. And with that I leave her behind me, heading to Grissom's office.

xxxxx

There's a knock on my door. I swear under my breath as I recognize Catherine's features through the peephole. She has the worst timing ever. I open the door and let her in, but try to keep her in the foyer.

"Something's wrong?" I ask in what I hope is a relaxed tone.

"We need to talk. I have a bad feeling about that case," she says.

"Cath, now isn't a good time." I say but she pretends not to hear me as she moves into the living room. Fuck it.

"We really need to talk Sara and I won't leave without answers," she says firmly.

"Listen, I don't know more about this case than you do. So I don't see how I could help you right now," I lie blatantly.

"Don't lie to me Sara!"

"Honey, I don't suppose you know when you'd be back, so I'll cancel the reservation for the astronomy conference of…" a feminine voice announces before trailing of "Oh, sorry, I didn't know you had company," Adin says.

We're both looking at Adin, she's wearing sweat pants with a sport bra. "Adin, this is Catherine Willows. Catherine this is Adin Spector." I say breaking the silence.

Adin nods in Catherine direction, "And you two are…"

"Working together," I add.

"Right, that's right. Now I remember hearing your name once. I'm sorry I have the memory of a goldfish sometimes," Adin chuckles.

"I've got to go. I'll see you at the airport tomorrow," Catherine says hastily before moving to the door. I follow her.

"You should have called," I say. It's not really a reproach, just a statement.

"Yeah I should have, but I lost that habit a long time ago. I'm sorry to have interrupted you though. See you tomorrow," she says before leaving my apartment without so much as a glance.

Now I'm pissed. Pissed that Adin is here, not that she has done anything wrong, but now I feel like I've betrayed Catherine, like I was cheating on her, which is insane since we aren't together anymore.

Adin wants to be more than my friend, I warned her that I couldn't give her what she wanted from me. But she's not that easily discouraged, so she sticks around sure that at some point I'll give her what she wants: a relationship.

Adin is fun, sexy, and smart. And if I had met her last year before I even considered dating Catherine, she and I would have had something great. She's all I want in a woman, but her biggest fault is that she's not Catherine. I'm not made of stone though. Sure we've kissed, made out and had sex, but it was nothing more than that: sex. I warned her about it and she's said that she's patient and that for now she's okay with this arrangement, but I don't think she has really understood that I'll probably never give her what she's expecting, for the simple reason that she's not Catherine Willows.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Catherine**

"Honey, I don't suppose you know when you'd be back, so I'll cancel the reservation for the astronomy conference of…," a feminine voice announces before trailing off. "Oh, sorry. I didn't know you had company," a scantily clad woman says.

Well, she wasn't exactly scantily clad, but she isn't fully clothed either.

Sara speaks up, effectively breaking the silence. "Adin, this is Catherine Willows. Catherine this is Adin Spector."

I immediately feel inconsequential in this young woman's presence. She is certainly stunning, and it is obvious why Sara is attracted to her. I can sense that this _Adin_ is sizing me up. "And you two are…" she says as she walks toward Sara.

Sara looks from me and back to her before answering her. "Working together."

She puts her arm around Sara's waist possessively before saying, "Right, that's right. Now I remember hearing your name once. I'm sorry, I have the memory of a goldfish sometimes." Her little laugh makes me feel physically ill.

Suddenly feeling like the intruder that I obviously am, I feel the urge to leave. "I've got to go. I'll see you at the airport tomorrow."

I stride back towards the door only to be stopped short by her hand on my arm. "You should have called."

I don't bother turning around to face her. "Yeah, I should have, but I lost that habit a long time ago. I'm sorry to have interrupted you though. See you tomorrow."

If I turn around to look at her, I will lose it. She's moved on—it's more obvious than ever now.

When I leave there, I head home. I need to make arrangements for Lindsey. I have no idea how long I am going to be out of town, and as usual, I am going to have to depend on my mother and my sister to help me out. And then there is the issue of calling Jenny…

XXXXXXXXXXX

"Lindsey! Damn it! You know I don't have a choice here. It's my job. I have to go!"

"It's always about your job! When do I come first? Maybe you should just let Aunt Nancy or Grandma adopt me since I spend more time with them than I do with you." She has obviously been taking bitch lessons from me.

"Lindsey, it's an important case. I'm working with the FBI and going to California with Sara."

At the mention of Sara's name, Lindsey spins on her heels. "Sara?" She is smiling now. "Does this mean the two of you might be getting back together?"

"Linds…we've been through this before. I love Sara—very much. But we can't be together. We're better off as friends."

"If you're really friends, then why doesn't she ever come over here anymore?" Lindsey puts her hands on her hips, a move she has seen me perfect over the years. "Huh? Why doesn't she?"

I am not about to have this argument with my teenager. She has been equally devastated by my breakup with Sara. When I was trying to decide whether or not I could continue to see Sara, their relationship weighed heavily on my heart. Since Eddie's death, Lindsey had, well, for lack of a better description, been a brat. She had difficulties in school and was constantly involved in some sort of conflict with kids she had considered her friends.

Sara's presence had an immediate calming effect on my little girl. She spent time with Lindsey. She took her to places. She would pick her up from school when I was running late or spend the night at my house when she had a night off and I had to work. Not only did Lindsey's grades improve, her entire demeanor did a 180. It was like I had my little girl back—until I broke up with Sara. And then, well, then things went right back to where they were.

"Lindsey. Go. Pack. Your. Bag. NOW!"

"I hate you!" she screams at me as she stomps up the stairs.

"Yeah, well, take a number!" I yell up the stairs after her.

Well, now that I've pissed my daughter off, I suppose it's time to piss off Jenny.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Better go ahead and get this over with now….

"_Hey sexy."_

"Hey Jen. You got a minute?"

"_Yeah. What's up"?_

"I've got to go out of town for a few days—on a case."

"_Oh. Okay. How long will you be gone?"_

"I dunno. And there's something else. I just wanted to go ahead and tell you that I'm working this case with Sara."

"_I see."_

"Don't be like that. It's just a case we caught and the feds are trying to take it over. Grissom insisted I go along when they asked for Sara's help."

"_I bet he did."_

"I'm already fighting Lindsey on this. I'm not going to fight with you as well. I'll call as soon as I get to California."

"_You're right. Be careful, okay? I'll miss you."_

"Bye hun." And I hang up. That went better than I had expected. But still, why couldn't she have just blown up over the whole thing and given me an excuse to end things? I couldn't lie and echo her sentiment of missing me. After all, I'm going to be with Sara and even if something is amiss with her and this case, I'll still be in her company. And for some reason, I feel like I need to be—like I need to protect her, if from nothing other than herself.

XXXXXX

The next day passes quickly until I have Warrick drop me off at the airport. I probably could have asked Jenny to drop me off, but that was a question best left unasked.

I am an hour early, but still hadn't managed to beat Sara there. By the time I check my luggage and head to the departure gait, she is already seated and leafing through a magazine.

_You're pissed with her Catherine, remember that!_

"Hey Sar," I say as I sit down in a seat across from her. "Been here long?"

"I got here about half an hour ago. I didn't want to deal with the crowds of people that wait until the last possible minute to show up for a flight." She doesn't even bother looking up from her magazine when she answers me.

This is definitely going to be a fun flight.

"So do you know exactly where we're going?"

"California."

"I knew that much, Sara. I thought that perhaps you knew specifically where we were going."

She doesn't answer. I know I am taking my life in my hands, but I reach over and take her magazine from her hands. "Why are you being so short with me? Have I done something to upset you?"

"Catherine, I really don't know what you're talking about. Now, if you don't mind," she says as she leans forward and snatches the magazine from my grasp, "I'd like to finish reading my article."

An hour later, we are stowing our carry-ons in the overhead compartments and taking our seats. It figures that we get stuck in coach while that Liam character flies first class.

The flight attendant goes over all those procedures that no one ever pays attention to and as expected, no one really pays attention.

As the plane rolled forward and the captain announced that we are to depart in a few minutes, I sense that something is wrong with Sara. Actually, it is less like I sense and more like I hear that something is wrong. I can hear her breathing becoming shallower and rapid.

"You okay?" I ask her.

Her eyes are closed tight and she has a death grip on the arm rest separating us. She is breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth, trying to regain her composure.

"Sar? Are you alright?"

Her eyes are still closed tightly. I reach over and place my hand over hers and lean in closer to her. "I never had you pegged for being afraid of flying."

"I'm not afraid of flying," she says as she grasps my hand and squeezes tightly. "I'm just terrified of crashing."

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	7. Chapter 7

**Hey everyone thanks for your sweet reviews...Well chapter 7 is up!**

**Enjoy,**

**So and Scuby ;)**

**ps:**FloatingInMoon**, well I let Scuby picked the name, and FrostySnak was the second option...anyway ;-)**

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**Chapter 7: Sara**

"I'm not afraid of flying," I tell Cath before instinctively taking her hand and squeezing tightly. "I'm just terrified of crashing."

I take a look at her and can feel that she's about to laugh, but she decides against. It's true – I'm not afraid of flying. Once this big bird is in the sky I'll be fine and relaxed, but until then, I'll be a bit on edge.

I feel her moving her hand as if she wants to disengage it, so I release my grip and start to move my hand away, but she doesn't let me. She just rearranges the position of her hand in mine as if nothing was wrong. She doesn't look at me just looks through her window.

The plane is gaining speed and starts its ascent, I close my eyes and try to focus hard on my breathing. I feel Cath's thumb making a soothing motion on the back of my hand, I try to get lost in this sensation, just to forget what's happening.

Twenty minutes later we are flying smoothly. There's a dead silence between me and Cath, but her hand hasn't left mine yet. Actually she keeps on rubbing her thumb on my hand every now and then. I don't call her on it; it feels too good to touch her. I missed this, the simple touches, those only lovers can exchange, those which mean more than words could say.

She hasn't looked at me since the plane has taken off. I can't really say I'd expected her to be warm to me, after all I gave her the cold shoulder when we were at the airport.

The reason why I did this was that I didn't want her to see that I was nervous to travel with her, nervous to have to spend time in California with her, and nervous because of what she could find out once we're there.

I'm nervous because I don't want her to see how miserable I feel since we've been apart. Nervous because I know that I want to be with her so badly, I'm afraid I'll do something stupid. She has someone else and I can't do anything stupid to jeopardize that. I mean, if she's happy with someone else then I have to respect that, even though it literally kills me. I had my chance and I willingly let it go. I'm to blame so I have to accept that someone else will give her the relationship she wants, because I failed her in that department.

We spend a big part of the flight in silence. I have my head resting on my seat and my eyes closed. Cath's been watching me for the past ten minutes. Even with my eyes closed, I can feel her piercing blue eyes on me.

Our hands seem to have taken life on their on because, now our fingers are entwined, in a perfect embrace that is uniquely ours. She has little hands compared to mine, but our hands fit together, that's one of the first thing I noticed when we were together. Our hands fit perfectly together.

I have to restrain myself from bringing her hand to my lips, just so I can kiss her soft skin, but I can't do that now, can I? As a matter of fact, I know I should let go of her hand because this is bad. But I can't resign myself to let go of her, because for some precious minutes I feel alive again. So, instead I caress her hand delicately in response of her touch. Damn, if only she knew what she still does to me.

After what she saw at my apartment last night, she must think that I've moved on and turned the page on us. She couldn't be further from the truth.

Actually Adin and I had a fight after Cath left yesterday. Adin reproached me with being suddenly distant. It didn't take her long to understand that Catherine was the reason I was holding back in our relationship. Then I told her to stay out of this and that she knew what the odds were when we met. I, at least, did her that favor, letting her know what she'd get from me.

After my break up with Catherine, I felt empty. And all this emptiness was sucking the life out of me. I couldn't stand it, so I started to look for something, anything that could fill this void even if it was just an illusion. So I had one night stands, using bodies of people I didn't care about to replace another. For an ephemeral moment, I had something to hold onto. But it didn't change anything, I was and still am an empty shell.

Catherine left me taking my heart with her so as long as we're apart, I'll be incomplete and unable to feel anything more than this bloody emptiness.

As the pilot announces that we're about to land, I get nervous again and tighten my grip on Cath's hand. I open my eyes, but keep them on the ceiling. I don't want to look at her, I don't want to look at our hands, I don't want to break this connection. I want to pretend a little more that we're together and that everything's okay.

Once we've landed, I feel reluctant to move, but I know I have to. I look at her and she's looking at me, I then stare at our hands and take a deep breath before disengaging them. I feel my heart being ripped out of my chest, but try not to let it show. I don't even look at her as I get up and take my belongings.

I don't wait for her to head out of the plane. I need to put some distance between us, because I'm so vulnerable now that it wouldn't take much to put me on my knees. So I pretend to be strong, pretend that I don't care, pretend that I'm not dying little by little.

xxxxx

Liam is waiting for us in the main hall of the airport at a distance as Catherine and I wait in front of the conveyor belt to get our bags. Luckily mine comes among the first ones. I take it, avoiding Catherine's eyes and go to Liam.

"How was the flight?" he asks me gently.

"Okay," I answer without any enthusiasm whatsoever.

"Skim?" he calls me gently. He's concerned about me I can tell, but there's nothing to say. Well, nothing I want to share.

"I'm okay," I reply with a little smile. He reaches for my face and puts one of my locks behind my ear in an affectionate gesture. He pulls his hand back quickly.

"Sorry, old habits die hard," he explains himself. Like I said, Liam has always been like a brother to me, and whenever he felt that I needed comfort he would put one of my locks behind my ear. With time, it became our thing. We had breakfast together this morning and we caught up with things, letting our masks fall.

He takes a step back away from me and composes himself again. "We're meeting Aaron tomorrow. We'll send Catherine in the field in the meantime."

"Okay," I answer with a nod.

His gaze shifts to my side. "Mrs. Willows," he says politely with a subtle smile and a nod.

"Agent Novacek," Catherine replies dryly. She's pissed, I can tell from her tone, and that's my doing.

"I'm going to lead you to the place you'll be staying at," Liam says before taking the lead.

After a twenty minute drive, Liam stops in front of a town house. I'm relieved we won't stay at the hotel.

We get out of the car and take our bags. Liam opens the front door and lets us pass by him before coming in and closing the door. "Welcome to your new house. We did the best we could to make you comfortable. Agents went to the grocery store so the fridge and cupboard are full. There are fresh linens in the laundry room, but we have already put clean linens on the beds. There's a first aid kit in the bathroom, your car is on the garage – a SUV like the one you use in Vegas. Each of you has a set of the keys to the house and the car, here's a credit card for any thing we might have forgotten. And lastly, here's the current code for the alarm, feel free to change it. Our meeting is at 8 a.m. at HQ. I'll pick you up at 7 on the dot. If you need anything at anytime, you can call me and I'll take care of it," he pauses to think a bit. "Questions?"

Both Cath and I shake our heads no. "Okay, that should be it then. I'll let you settle in and leave you now. Have a nice evening and see you tomorrow," he says before putting the sets of keys, the card, and a paper on the island. He nods toward us and leaves the house.

I sigh and look at Catherine for the first time since we left the plane. "Do you want to choose your bedroom first?" I finally say after a long silence.

"I don't care, Sara," she says before going into the corridor. I watch her opening the doors, exploring the house, and then she disappears to the left in what I assume to be one of the bedrooms.

I sigh heavily. This should be interesting, excruciating and draining, but interesting.

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	8. Chapter 8

**Ok chapter 8 is up! Thanks for your reviews ;-)**

**Enjoy,**

**So and Scuby ;-)

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Chapter 8: Catherine**

For the first time since we've left the plane, Sara looks at me. "Do you want to choose your bedroom first?"

I just stand there and look at her for a moment before I suddenly realize that maybe I don't know Sara as well as I thought I did. It hasn't escaped my noticing that she and this Liam seem to have a familiarity with one another that I can't quite place.

"I don't care, Sara." Those words have so many different implications and meanings right now.

I don't care what room I sleep in. I don't care that I'm in California and not at home with my daughter. I don't care that the woman I love most in this world doesn't trust me. I. Just. Don't. Care. Who am I kidding? I care too fucking much. That's why I am here. The day that I can actually convince myself that I don't care is the day that I quit breathing.

I grab my bags and head down the corridor, looking in rooms as I went along. As I open a door to my left, I am shocked to see a conference room of sorts. I step into the room. Every wall of the room is plastered with multiple angle pictures from every crime scene. I sit my bags down and grab a file. I pull up a chair in front of the corresponding crime scene photos and begin to read the file in earnest.

"You're supposed to be getting settled, not worrying about the case right now," Sara's words bring me back to the present.

I turn around and look at her over the rim of my glasses. "_You_ can get settled. I just wanted to look over some things from these cases again before we meet with the FBI tomorrow."

Sara began to walk toward me. "Give me the file, Catherine. Go find a room and get settled." She was holding her hand out towards me, waiting for me to give her the file.

"The last time I checked, Sara, you weren't heading up this investigation. I can sit here and read these files if I want," I say to her through clenched teeth.

"And the last time I checked," she says as she snatches the file out of my hand, "the FBI wanted me on this case and Grissom just sent you along to babysit." She sat the file back down with the others on the table. "Catherine, I really don't want to fight with you the entire time we're here."

"Then stop acting like a child," I say as I rise to my feet. "I don't know what happened in your life that makes you believe you need to control every thing, but you can't. And me…well, I'm one of those things you can't control." I stood toe to toe with her and leaned in to whisper in her ear, "And that just pisses you off to no end, doesn't it?"

"You have no idea what you're talking about, Cath. Look," she says as she throws her hands up in the air and takes a step backwards, "all I'm saying is that we've got plenty of time to go over these files in detail. Let's just go find our rooms and unpack. I'll even cook dinner for us tonight."

I'm not totally convinced of her sincerity, but for the time being, I'm content to play along.

"Alright, let's go find our rooms." I walk toward the door and pick up my bags. I notice that Sara is looking around the room. "You coming?"

She turns to me and smiles before saying, "Coming?"

I recognize the smile that graces her face. And as pissed as I am right now with her, my stomach tumbles at the innuendo. "Yeah, to find the bedrooms, dumbass."

"Oh, that. Yeah."

With one last glance around the room, she joins me in the hall. "So I'm guessing that the rooms are upstairs?"

"Yeah, I think the only rooms down here are the kitchen, living room, laundry and that office," she says to me as we climb the stairs.

We reach the second floor and I step into the first room we come to. "I'll take this one," I announce as I shut the door behind me.

She knocks as soon as the door is shut. "Cath, why don't you take the master bedroom?"

I swing the door open and she takes a step back. "No thanks. I'll take this one." I shut the door again and immediately begin to unpack.

A little while later, I hear Sara padding past my door and descending the stairs. I lie down on the bed and try to gather my thoughts about what happened in the office downstairs. Why do I feel like Sara is trying to keep me away from the evidence? Something is going on and sooner or later, I'll get my head wrapped around it.

XXXXXX

Sara calls up the stairs to tell me that dinner is ready. I think my stomach understood her words before I did as it is suddenly 'talking.'

I go downstairs and wander into the kitchen to find out what Sara has fixed us for dinner.

She has her back turned to me as I enter the kitchen.

"What are we having?" I was always unsure of Sara's cooking abilities. I mean, there are limits to one's culinary creativity when they refuse to eat or cook anything that once had a face. "What's that smell?" My nose is in the air and I'm sniffing. "Did you burn something?"

Sara hangs her head. "We're, uh, having a salad for dinner."

"How do you burn salad?" I say as I'm still sniffing the air and moving around in the kitchen.

"You don't burn salad. Just eat it," she says as she pushes a bowl toward me.

I'm standing there with my eyebrow cocked and waiting for the explanation that I know she will eventually cave and give me.

"Fine, I tried to make something else. It didn't work out."

"Did you try to boil water again?" I couldn't help but give her a hard time.

"Hey!" she said in mock anger. "I only made that mistake one time—and you promised to never say anything about it again."

"Alright, fine. Salad dressing?" I smile at her as I pull the salad toward me.

She points toward the bowl, "It's already fixed the way you like, hun."

We continue to stand there, enjoying our salads in comfortable silence.

It doesn't take long for us to finish our salads. I have yet to call Lindsey or Jenny. Maybe I can put off calling Jenny until tomorrow. It's not really something I'm looking forward to doing.

"Well, this has been nice. Thanks for the lovely, uh, salad. I think I'll go make a couple of phone calls and settle down for the evening." I don't really give her an opportunity to respond before I've taken off up the stairs to my temporary bedroom.

XXXXX

I'm making my necessary phone calls when I hear Sara come up the stairs. I swear, I think she pauses outside my door for a moment before continuing on to hers.

It's not much longer before I fall into a restless slumber. I'm in an unfamiliar house in an unfamiliar city with a woman that I'm questioning my familiarity with. In short, I'm on edge.

I wake up at some point, desperately needing something to drink. I quietly make my way down the stairs, careful not to make noise because I don't want to wake Sara.

I pour myself a glass of milk and am about to take a big gulp when I hear footsteps. I freeze in fear. I hear a door open in the hallway. I left my gun in my room because I didn't think I'd need it while I was grabbing a glass of milk. I put the glass on the counter and sneak back to the stairs and up to my room.

Once there, I grab my gun and stand by my door. My heart is pounding so loudly that I'm afraid I won't hear the intruder coming. I patiently wait for the sound of feet on the stairs. After I see the mystery shadow pass by my door, I slowly and quietly open it. My safety is switched off as I step into the hallway, gun raised and pointed in the offending person's direction. At the same time, in an even, ice-cold voice I say, "Stop right where you are."

My palms are sweaty and the rush of adrenaline makes me shake slightly. I breathe deep and evenly in order to keep my cool.

Suddenly the intruder spins around, frantically trying to hide what _she_ has in _her_ hands. "Cath?"

"Sara?" I say as I put the safety back on my gun and walk towards her.

She's walking backwards toward her room with her hands behind her back.

"What are you doing up?" she asks me innocently. Sara is anything but innocent.

"I could ask you the same thing, but I was getting something to drink when I heard a noise. You scared the shit out of me, Sara! What were you doing down there?"

"Nothing really. I, uh, thought I heard something, too. I went downstairs to check it out."

"Oh, okay."

She stares at me. I know that she knows that I know she wasn't down there looking for the source of some unheard sound.

She breaks the silence, "Alright then. I'm heading to bed. See you in a few hours." She backs into her room and shuts the door.

Alone in the hallway, I ask the question I desperately want an answer to: what is going on here?

* * *

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	9. Chapter 9

**Hey, thanks everyone for the reviews...Here's chapter 9, sorry for the delay people...**

**Enjoy,**

**So and Scuby ;-)**

**ps:

* * *

Chapter 9: Sara**

I thought Cath had entered a bedroom, and since she was a bit edgy because of me, I thought I'd go and apologize. My breath caught in my throat when I first looked at the room Cath was in. It was no bedroom, it was a conference room – well, a made up one but still. There were pictures of the murders and files everywhere.

Cath was engrossed in some of them. I had to do something, so I almost started a fight about being settled. She fought back so I pulled the 'you were not requested here in the first place' card and lucky me I pushed the right button to get the upper hand. Then I realized that my behaviour looked more than suspicious, so I flirted a bit and talked her out of the room. I know she didn't let it slide, but for the time being she dropped the issue.

We got out of the room and I made sure to close the door behind us. We went upstairs to choose our respective rooms. She entered the first one she found – the spare room judging from the size of it – and then she literally shut the door in my face.

After a moment, I made sure she wasn't about to move from her bedroom, then I headed downstairs to make a phone call.

"_Novacek."_

"A conference room? Were you tripping or something? Do you realize how stupid that was?!" I said vehemently making sure to keep a low tone. "And why you didn't mention it before?"

"_What? What are you talking about? What conference room?"_ he asked me.

"A bloody conference room, with files pictures, articles, and every damn thing. You didn't know about it? Is that a joke?!" I spat.

"_Must be Spencer's idea…he didn't give me the heads up on this one,"_ he said sounding as surprised as I was.

"Please tell me that this genius thought about checking the files before putting them here," I pleaded, pinching the bridge of my nose and closing my eyes. When I was met with nothing but silence I sighed, "Liam…" I growled.

"_I'll call you back in two minutes."_ He answered before hanging up.

I paced like a caged animal for what felt like an eternity before my phone rang. "Sidle," I answered sharply.

"_There are seven files…no, nine and three on particular…"_ Liam told me a bit nervous, too.

"What?!! Liam!"

"_Don't blame me! Just listen to me. There are nine…yeah, nine files to check…"_

"Liam, don't you tell me he doesn't know!" I almost shouted.

"_He wasn't sure. Look, I'll give you the names of the files. You go through them and take out all the compromising pieces…"_

"He did tell you precisely where those were… right?"

"_Yeah that and also that Santa was my cousin…Get some paper and I'll give you the names of the files…"_ he replied. I did what I was told and hung up.

After that, Cath and I had a rather pleasant dinner before she went upstairs to make phone calls. I took that opportunity to take a look in the conference room.

Then, I made a phone call again. _"Novacek."_

"What the fuck am I supposed to do with the files? If I find them that is," I asked harshly.

"_Which bedroom do you have?"_

"The master one."

"_Good, there's a writing desk. Bottom of the second drawer on the left and in the upper panel,"_ he simply replied. _"We'll have to find something better later, but it'll have to do for now. See you tomorrow."_

"Tell Spencer that his sorry ass has earned a meeting with my shoe," I replied before hanging up.

I left the office and headed upstairs. I paused in front of Cath's door and listened for any movement. I decided to wait a bit ore before taking care of my business.

I go into my bedroom and check the places Liam mentioned in the writing desk. There was a fake bottom on the second drawer and the panel was moving to give me access to an empty space. Good, very good.

Forty five minutes later, I headed back downstairs quietly with a flashlight. Once in the conference room, I started to look around like a maniac, always careful not to make noise. After a good thirty minutes of searching, I found what I was looking for. I sat down and looked in every file to see if there was any compromising information. I only found offending pieces in five files; I found something like ten pictures and twenty pages of articles or reports. I put those aside and closed all of the files.

I went back upstairs and hid them in the writing desk. I put the pictures in the drawer and the sheets of paper behind the panel. Then I assured myself that nothing looked out of place before I headed downstairs again because I realized that I had left the files out.

Ten minutes later I was on my way up again. I had barely passed Cath's door when I heard the unmistakable sound of a safety being pulled back. "Stop right where you are," Catherine's cold voice said.

I spun around fast trying desperately to hide my flashlight behind my back. Facing Cath's gun, I called, "Cath?"

"Sara?" she said as she put the safety back on her gun and walked towards me.

I kept walking backwards toward my room with my hands behind my back.

"What are you doing up?" I asked her in my best innocent tone.

"I could ask you the same thing, but I was getting something to drink when I heard a noise. You scared the shit out of me, Sara! What were you doing down there?"

"Nothing really. I, uh, thought I heard something, too. I went downstairs to check it out," I lamely replied.

"Oh, okay," she said flatly. Both of us knew that I just lied but neither of us said it aloud.

"Alright then. I'm heading to bed. See you in a few hours," I said as I went back into my room and shut the door.

xxxxx

That was ten minutes ago. Now I'm sitting on my bed thinking: fuck, that was a close call.

I don't think I'll get any sleep tonight. My heart is racing in my chest unhealthily; I can't help feeling dizzy with all that's going through my mind right now.

Besides, I'm too afraid of the kind of dreams my brain could come up with if I so much as closed my eyes.

Damn, why did I put myself in this position?

xxxxx

I'm preparing breakfast for Cath and I while she's getting ready. There is much more tension between us than there was yesterday, and that's saying something considering that yesterday a thousand elephants could have choked on the air around us.

"Good morning," I greet her gently as she finally makes her way into the living room. She doesn't answer just nods her head.

We have breakfast and soon Liam is here to picking us up. Catherine doesn't greet him either, just passes him by and goes directly in the car. Liam looks at me with a questioning look. "Do I want to know?"

I give him a cold stare and he understands that it has something to do with what I did last night. "When are we meeting Aaron?" I ask him as I close the door.

"He's at the HQ, waiting for us. Do you have your stuff?" he asks. Once more I stare at him. "Aren't you feisty today," he says with sarcasm.

The drive to the HQ is short luckily. Once we arrive, we go into a huge conference room where Spencer and at least a dozen people are waiting for us.

I take a deep breath and will myself to be calm.

Let the show begin.

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	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: Catherine**

"Good morning," she greets me as I finally make my way into the living room. I don't answer, just nod my head. I guess it is a good morning for her considering I didn't shoot her last night when I thought she was someone breaking in. I still want to know what she was doing wandering around in the middle of the night. And she had something behind her back. She obviously thinks I'm stupid. Anyway…

Sara is acting like every thing is fine—as if there's no pink elephant in the room. Okay, make that no pink elephant with purple polka dots. We have breakfast in silence and soon Liam is here to pick us up. I don't greet him either. I just pass him by and climb in the car. Right now, I don't trust Sara and I certainly don't trust anyone remotely related to this case.

Liam and Sara exchange a glance. The look they share doesn't go unnoticed by me. Soon, they are in the midst of a conversation about what I assume to be the case and people who will be working on it. I don't really want to say "with us" because I don't feel involved. And even though we haven't really started on this case, I _know_ I'm unwelcome here. Sara said as much to me last night. And she was right, if it weren't for Grissom's insistence and his desire to have someone along to watch after Sara, I wouldn't be here.

The drive to HQ is relatively short. Sara and I had to go through a checkpoint of sorts and eventually had our photos taken and temporary IDs made. At least tomorrow we won't have to go through this hassle again. We'll just be able to walk right in and past these checkpoints.

Liam leads us into a room that is crowded with at least a dozen people. Most of them are wearing suits, so I assume they're agents assigned to this case. There are a couple of lab coats among them as well. Near the coffee machine stands a man that I can only assume is Greg's long lost twin brother. And as soon as he opens his mouth, my suspicions are nearly confirmed.

"Well, hello there good looking," he says to me with a twinkle in his eye. "What's a beautiful woman like you doing in a place like this?" he asks ask he motions around the room with his hand. He extends his hand towards me and speaks again, "You are…"

"Catherine Willows," I state as I take his hand in a firm handshake.

"I was going to say stunning, but I guess Catherine Willows will do. I'm Flynn Ashton. People around here just call me 'Flash'. You can call me enamored, if you like."

"Down boy. You're not really her type," Sara says to the young man as she moves to my side. She extends her hand in his direction and as he takes it, she says, "Sara Sidle."

He never takes his eyes off of me as he shakes her hand and responds, "Nice to meet you, I'm sure. So, Catherine," he says as he smiles at me, "what brings you to our little hole in the wall?"

Before I can respond, Sara answers him. "One of our teams was working a similar case in Vegas. Spencer and Liam requested my help with the case," Sara explains as she prepares a cup of coffee.

Something isn't right here and I can't quite put my finger on it. I stand there watching her add her sugar to her coffee while I process what she said to Flash. And then it hits me. She referred to Agents Hackers and Novacek as Spencer and Liam. Why did she refer to them by their first names? I quickly think back to every case I've ever worked with Sara. Not once—never, ever—did I hear her refer to anyone working a case with her by their first name. She's always been extremely professional. Why would she slip up now?

Incensed that she had interrupted the conversation I was having with Flash, I throw in my two cents. "She's right. She was requested to work on the case. I was sent along to babysit her. I'm sure you know how it is. Sometimes you can't let the little one venture too far from home without someone to look after her and keep her out of trouble." I can feel Sara's eyes on me as I finish my explanation.

My new friend Flash takes a step back as he quietly squeals, "Whoa! Did you feel that?" I look at him in puzzlement. Sara's expression mirrors my own. He looks at Sara and then at me. "You two dated once, did you?" There is silence as neither Sara nor I say anything in response. "I knew it!" Then he looks, once again, from Sara to me, his head bobbing up and down and a Cheshire grin stretching from ear to ear. "Cool!"

A look of disgust crosses Sara's face as she simply walks away from us and approaches a group of agents talking in another corner of the room and immediately joins in their conversation.

"Well, now that she's finally left us," he nods in Sara's direction, "how about you tell me about your type? I'm guessing that she really wasn't your type either if you're not together. Now, me, I can be anything you want me to be."

This guy really is too much. He makes our Greg look like a thirty year old virgin. I was about to tell him as much when I felt a hand on the small of my back and heard the voice attached to it begin to speak.

"Flash, you've been warned before. You either calm down around visitors or the coroner is willing to neuter you for us. And remember, he's used to working on dead people. No telling what else he might accidentally snip while he's down there."

The saddest little puppy-dog look crossed his face as he grabbed his coffee and made a hasty retreat. I turn to face my defender and my breath immediately catches. Okay, I don't normally react to beautiful women this way, but this woman is stunning. Her skin is the color of caramel and her eyes only a shade or so darker. I'm standing there, my mouth hanging open, just staring at her.

After what feels like forever, but what I'm sure has only been a second or two, I speak. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to stare. I just…." I felt myself blush.

"No problem, Ms. Willows. I'm McKenzie Ramirez—Mac to my friends." She holds her hand out to me and I promptly take it in mine. "Flash means well. He's just…well, a little overeager when it comes to the fairer sex. I'm sure a beautiful woman like you is accustomed to _banditos_ like him."

I can't help but blush at her statement. Her hand is still holding mine and I'm about to speak when Agent Hackers addresses the crowd.

"If everyone would please take their seats, we're about to start our briefing." 

Every one who has been standing around the room moves toward the table. I drop the hand of Ms. Ramirez as we head toward our seats. She pulls out a chair for me and I sit down, smiling my thanks to her. Sara takes the seat beside me. She leans in and whispers in my ear, "I thought you had a girlfriend, Cath."

I can't help but stare at her icily before turning slightly in my seat so that my back is to her.

Agent Hackers stands up and begins to talk about the case. Each agent assigned to the case, in turn, discusses the part of the case that they are most familiar with. As Agent Ramirez stands to discuss the killer's psychological profile, Sara's phone rings. I turn to see her pull her phone out and look at the caller ID. She mouths 'sorry' to the crowded table and gets up and steps away from the table. "Sidle…Adin?...wait…..what….no, I can't hear you…..Adin?"

The frustration on the face of the agent sitting beside me is clearly evident as Sara addresses the lead agent. "I'm sorry Agent Hackers. I need to return this call. Is there a phone somewhere that I can use?"

Agent Hackers furrows his brow before saying, "Sure, go ahead. We'll take a break. Everyone be back here in thirty." Both Sara and Agent Hackers leave the room. I guess he needs to show her where a phone is that she can use.

"So you two were a couple?" Agent Ramirez asks as she shuffles the notes in front of her.

I hesitate to answer because I've always enjoyed keeping my private life just that—private. Something in the way she asks though makes me want to answer her. I sigh heavily as I turn my body and my attention toward her. "We were a couple once upon a time. That's all water under the bridge though."

She chuckles as she studies me then stands to walk away from the table. Before she does, she leans down and whispers in my ear, "She must be pretty fucking stupid to let someone like you slip through her fingers."

I can only hang my head and smile. The people out here are certainly very forward.

I was sitting by myself in a mostly empty room when a fresh cup of coffee found its way onto the table in front of me. "You look like you could use this," Agent Novacek said as he patted me on the shoulder. "Was everything at the townhouse to your liking?"

I pick up the coffee and begin to drink it. "Thank you for the coffee. And yes, everything at the house is great. It's actually more than I had expected. I would have thought that we'd have spent our time in a motel."

"Now Ms. Willows, this is the FBI. We have nearly unlimited resources at our hands. Besides, we've been working this case for a long time. It isn't going to be solved in a matter of days. And anyway, you're both involved with someone and you have a daughter. It was only prudent of us to provide you with something more substantial than a motel room in case you wanted to have visitors."

As his words caught up with me, I couldn't help but look at him questioningly. "How do you know I'm involved with someone?"

He smiled as he stood, shaking his head. "We're the FBI. It's our job to know everything about everyone that's working with us. In fact, there are very few things I don't know about you."

Agents began to file back in the room and take their seats. Sara was the last to return. She pauses to talk to Agent Hackers and Agent Novacek before sitting down beside me.

Hackers looks around the room taking a headcount. "Okay, it looks like we're all back now. Mac, why don't you go ahead and give us the details on the profile of our killer?"

As Agent Ramirez rose to her feet, I began to feel light-headed and had a hard time focusing on what she was saying. I looked up at her and began to frantically blink my eyes in an attempt to focus my vision. It wasn't helping. Within seconds, nausea and stomach cramps began to plague me. I pushed myself away from the table and as I attempted to get to my feet, I collapsed on the floor.

I don't think I had quite crumpled to the floor before Sara was out of her seat and beside me. "Cat, what's wrong?"

I only know it was Sara because of her voice. I couldn't focus on the face in front of me. I manage to eke out a feeble, "I don't feel so good. I think I'm going to be sick."

Sara gets me to my feet and with an arm around my waist, escorts me to the nearest restroom where I begin to puke my guts out in earnest.

She's standing behind me, gently rubbing my back and whispering soothing words when the door to the rest room swings open.

"Hackers wants you back in the room. I'm going to take your friend home. She's sick and doesn't need to be here," explains the honey voice of McKenzie Ramirez.

"I don't think I should leave her. First of all, she's a bear when she's sick. Second of all, she doesn't know you. She's not going to be comfortable with you taking her back to the townhouse. And why is it more important for me to be in that meeting that you?"

"I'm the profiler, Sidle. Nothing more…nothing less. My job is basically done until you people find something else that can help me create a more accurate picture of the sick bastard we're looking for."

I turn around in time to see a look of confusion cross Sara's face. She's obviously torn. On one hand, she wants to care for me—and that touches me. But on the other, she wants to be in that room helping with the case—and that's typical Sara Sidle.

"Mac, would you mind grabbing my purse from the conference room? I'm gonna clean up a bit and then we can leave." I decide not to give Sara a choice in the matter.

As soon as the agent leaves us, Sara turns to me. "Cath, are you sure you want her to take you back? I can do it. I don't think you should be alone right now. You got really sick, really quickly. Any idea what's wrong?"

I'm now standing at the sink listening to Sara when the dizziness overtakes me again. I grab the sink in front of me and hold on, waiting for it to subside. "Sara, I don't know why I'm sick. For all I know, your little attempt at dinner last night gave me food poisoning. Seems like a perfect way to keep me out of the loop here since I'm not wanted to begin with, right?" I don't give her a chance to respond before I add, "Do us both a favor and just quit pretending to care, okay? You didn't do it while we were together and I certainly don't want it now."

Hurt and anger cloud Sara's eyes as the door to the restroom swings open once again. "You ready, Ms. Willows?"

I walk towards Mac and brush against Sara as I do so. "Go back to _your_ meeting, Sara. I'm sure that I'm in _**very**_ capable hands_**now**_."


	11. Chapter 11

Hi everyone, aren't you lucky today. You don't get one but two updates...woohoo...anyway, thank you very much for your reviews.

Enjoy,

So and Scuby ;-)

* * *

Chapter 11

We're sitting in the middle of a meeting. We were in the room for three seconds when Greg Number Two hit on Cath. I put him in his place harshly. It was all I could do not to punch him. Hitting on my…No, not anymore. Still, it doesn't mean I have to put up with this.

Then, someone else fell victim to the Willows' charm – Agent Ramirez. As I was talking with the other agents, Cath's exchange with her didn't go unnoticed by me. That and the fact that Ramirez was so familiar with my…grrrr, not anymore Sidle!

I couldn't help making a snide remark to Catherine about her having a girlfriend already which earned a death cold stare and her back facing me.

I try to focus on whatever Spencer is saying although there isn't much he has to say that I don't already know. I listen absentmindedly to the rest of the agents making their reports. My phone breaks the silent tension in the room. I look at the ID and see 'Liam' on the tiny screen. What the…?

I mouth sorry to the others before picking up.

"Sidle," I answer

"_Find a reason to leave the room,"_ Liam orders.

"Adin?" I fake surprise.

"_Take the second turn to your left once in the corridor."_

"Wait…" I kept on my fake conversation.

"_Then go into the fourth office on your right,"_ he adds

"What…"

"_Did you understand me?"_

"No, I can't hear you…" I say in a fake concerned tone.

"_You're good at this you know,"_ he chuckles.

"Adin?" I ask again before I hear Liam amused chuckle again.

"_Get out of here now," _he says amused before hanging up.

I take a second to perfect my frustrated expression, staring at my phone. "I'm sorry, Agent Hackers. I need to return this call. Is there a phone somewhere that I can use?" I say exchanging a knowing look with Spencer.

Spencer furrows his brow in good measure before saying, "Sure, go ahead. We'll take a break. Everyone be back here in thirty."

I nod before leaving hastily. I follow the directions Liam gave me and enter the office. I go in and close the door behind me. I move further into the room and wait for Liam and Spencer to appear.

"Skim," a smoky voice says gently. I'm a bit startled and turn to the window discovering Aaron West standing three feet away from me. I forgot how easily he could go unnoticed. Actually he's better than me and that's saying something since I'm almost a shadow when I want to be. He sports an affectionate and awkward smile.

"Squirt," I answer with a smirk. Aaron is the baby of the gang. When we were young, he was the one always getting into troubles and tending to make the wrong choices.

He hesitates on his next move before crossing the distance between us and taking me in his arms. I return his embrace.

"Touching reunion," Spencer's voice snaps as he enters the room. Aaron and I break apart. "We have less than thirty minutes for this meeting, so let's cut the sweetness, shall we?" he adds.

"Where's Liam?" I ask frowning not to find him right behind Spencer.

"He's taking care of your friend. He'll be here shortly," Spencer answers.

I don't know why, but something he says sounds wrong. Somehow, I hear alarm bells ringing at his words.

"Do you have your letter, Aaron?" Spencer asks with a short tone.

Aaron produces an envelope and puts it on the table. "I received that six months ago. I told Liam and Spencer immediately. I suppose I'm not the only one."

"No, you're not. We all received the same message," Liam says. I stare at him for a moment then turn my attention on the items on the table.

I take my envelope out of my pocket and pull out the newspaper piece. I set it on the table next to Aaron's. The two pieces don't match, but we can easily see that they came from the same page. Liam puts his piece on the left of Aaron's and just above mine. This time they match. Spencer brings the last piece of the puzzle. Two seconds later, we're staring at a full article or rather a piece of some article.

We read the content and don't see anything that could somehow be related to us. It's an article about some political event.

"That doesn't make any sense," Liam frowns.

I'm trying hard to think about what we could be missing. On the back of my side of paper, there were pieces of what I assume to be letters, but since they were cut there wasn't any interest in it. Now, if we successively put the article back together and it doesn't mean anything, I'm lost.

Then it hits me. It's a game and we got the rules all wrong. We have to focus not on what seems obvious, but on the things that aren't. I start to turn the pieces of paper. I was right – there were pieces of letters on the back of each piece of paper. Now that all the parts of the puzzle are gathered, the message is complete.

Five letters for two words: _to pay_. I take the other piece of paper from my pocket and put it right above the newspaper. With the two pieces combined, we get a new message: _it's time to pay_.

"Shit," Aaron whispers.

If there was any doubt left as to the killer's intentions, they are now dissipated.

"He stalked us. He knows more about us than we know about him," I finally say. "I mean each of our messages was followed or preceded with a murder. And he had to know where we lived."

"What do we do now?" Aaron asks.

"What do you want us to do genius?" Spencer snaps.

"You tell me, since you're always the one with brilliant ideas," Aaron spits back with sarcasm.

Two seconds later Spencer is pushing Aaron against a wall. "You're taking a piss at me little boy?" he ask through his teeth.

In spite of Aaron's boldness, he's afraid of Spencer's temper. Spencer is rather hot tempered; he and Aaron fought too many times to keep track.

I put myself next to them and stare at Spencer. "Let him go Spencer," I say in a menacing tone.

He looks at me and snorts before looking at Aaron again. "Give me another chance and I beat your pretty little face," he threatens before letting go of him.

"Nothing. That's what we're going to do," Liam announces.

"And let him kill someone else?" I ask in disbelief.

"Well, we can't really do anything until he decides to send us a new message. Unless you have a new lead you haven't talked to us about?"

"So, we're putting the lives of innocent women in jeopardy, and what? Sit back and watch?" I boil.

"Right now, until we get a new message, we'll focus on covering our asses. This message is clear. He wants us. He killed four women just to let us know that much. And supposing that he's been stalking us like you mention, he knows that we're all together. Now, he thinks that serious business can began. We have to read every file and think about all possible connections with Ronald. Any mistake will come at a high price. We can't trust anyone except the four of us. And right now the most important thing is to stay as clean as possible," Liam says.

I'm not okay with the idea, but I have to admit that until the killer strikes again, we don't have anything to go on.

"We should look back in the old files. There has to be a connection or some evidence we're missing. He's been playing with us from the beginning, so I don't think he left anything to hazard," I reason aloud.

"We have to meet outside of the HQ," Spencer says. "My place is fine and it's secure," he adds.

"Fine, let's meet tonight at 11 with the files. We'll decide on a course of action then," Liam says.

Aaron leaves the building while Spencer, Liam and I go back to the conference room and take back our places. Catherine looks at me intently before shifting her attention to Spencer again.

"Okay, it looks like we're all back now. Mac, why don't you go ahead and give us the details on the profile of our killer?"

Agent Ramirez rises to her feet, and flashes a quick smile to Catherine before starting her report. I swear I'm going to hurt that woman if she keeps on flirting with my…fuck!

I feel Catherine fidgeting next to me. I turn to her and before I can ask her if she's okay, she pushes herself away from the table and attempts to get up. Lucky me I have good reflexes because she's not half way up before she collapses. I catch her and soften her landing. "Cat, what's wrong?" I ask her trying to keep my emotions in check.

"I don't feel so good. I think I'm going to be sick," she mumbles.

I get her to her feet with an arm around her waist, and escort her to the nearest restroom where she begins to puke her guts out.

I stand behind her holding her hair back, gently rubbing her back and whispering soothing words when the door to the rest room swings open.

"Hackers wants you back in the room. I'm going to take your friend home. She's sick and doesn't need to be here," announces the voice of McKenzie Ramirez.

"I don't think I should leave her. First of all, she's a bear when she's sick. Second of all, she doesn't know you. She's not going to be comfortable with you taking her back to the townhouse. And why is it more important for me to be in that meeting that you?" I answer with anger. Who the hell does she thinks she is?

"I'm the profiler, Sidle. Nothing more…nothing less. My job is basically done until you people find something else that can help me create a more accurate picture of the sick person we're looking for."

Catherine turns around and looks at me. I think she can see my inner struggle. I care for her and want to be there for her, but my job has always been my first priority, as hard as this is to admit.

"Mac, would you mind grabbing my purse from the conference room? I'm gonna clean up a bit and then we can leave," Catherine asks.

As soon as the agent leaves us, I turn to her. "Cath, are you sure you want her to take you back? I can do it. I don't think you should be alone right now. You got really sick, really quickly. Any idea what's wrong?"

I can see her getting unsteady again as I'm talking to her, she grabs the sink in front of her and holds on, waiting for it to subside. "Sara, I don't know why I'm sick. For all I know, your little dinner last night gave me food poisoning. Seems like a perfect way to keep me out of the loop here since I'm not wanted to begin with, right?" she spits at me. Oh that is so low. "Do us both a favor and just quit pretending to care, okay? You didn't do it while we were together and I certainly don't want it now."

I can feel hurt mingling with anger inside me. I don't have the time to reply as the door to the restroom swings open once again. "You ready, Ms. Willows?" Ramirez asks with a soft voice. I tighten my fist feeling myself ready to make some damage to her pretty face.

She walks towards Ramirez and brushes against me as she does so. "Go back to your meeting, Sara. I'm sure that I'm in _very capable hands now_."

As we leave the restroom Liam is outside waiting for me. I watch as Catherine leaves with Ramirez, not even sparing a second glance at me. "Everything okay?" Liam asks. I don't answer still staring at Cath's retreating form. "Seems like we won't have to worry about her today. Might be the only positive thing in this mess," he adds.

I push him violently against the wall as something catches up with my brain. "Did you do this?" I growl. Spencer said that Liam was 'taking care of my friend' earlier, now I'm hoping it's not what I think.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he says calmly.

"If you did anything to her…" I start to threaten him.

"I don't have anything to do with this. But if you cooked last night, knowing your culinary talents you could be the one guilty for her actual state," he says coldly not leaving my eyes, silently daring me to make a move.

I take a deep breath to cool off and let go of him, before heading to the conference room again.


	12. Chapter 12

**ps: **Immi**, we heard you loud and clear...yet... ;-)**

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**Chapter 12: Catherine**

The drive back to the townhouse is painfully long. This is the second time I've asked Mac to pull over so that I can puke. I'm not even sure what I'm throwing up at this point. The only thing I've eaten in the last twenty-four hours is Sara's so called dinner last night which was only a salad. I'm standing outside of Mac's car, holding myself up with my hands on my knees and trying to remember what the hell I've put in my body that could have made me this fucking sick. My retching finally subsides and I climb back inside the car.

"You doing okay there?" Mac asks as she places her hand on my shoulder.

"I wish I was dead!" And I'm not lying. I've never felt as bad as I feel right at this moment. Seventeen hours of labor with Lindsey doesn't even hold a candle to what I'm feeling at this moment. I lean my head against the cool window of the car.

"It's probably just a touch of food poisoning. Did you eat something out of the norm in the last day?" Mac's hand continues to make soothing motions on the back of my shoulder. _God that feels good_.

I groaned and squeezed my eyes shut tightly before doubling over again in the seat. Mac immediately began to slow down, anticipating another stop on the shoulder of the road.

"Just keep going," I said through clenched teeth.

A few minutes later, we finally pull up in the driveway of the townhouse.

Mac says, "Hold on and I'll help you out." She immediately moves to my side of the car and opens the door. She reaches across me to undo my seatbelt before holding her hand out to me. Once she has me out of the car, she reaches back in, grabs my purse, and then leads me slowly to the door of the house I'm now sharing with Sara indefinitely.

"You have your key?" A look of sheer stupidity must cross my face as she laughs lightly. "I'll take that as a no."

"Shit. Fuck. Damn. Sara put the key on the counter and told me to take it, but I never did." I double over again in pain.

She winks at me before adding, "No problem. I can handle this." She pulls something out of her pocket and within seconds, she's managed to open the front door.

I'm standing there in slack-jawed awe. "How did you…." I am unable to finish my question as another wave of nausea overtakes me and I quickly seek refuge in the downstairs bath.

Minutes pass and I'm finally able to walk upright again. I open the door and Mac is just standing there against the wall holding a glass of water in one hand and two pink tablets in the other. "Pepto—it might help."

I take them wordlessly and chew them before slowly sipping the water she brought me.

"How about we go get you out of these clothes?" she asks with concern in her voice.

I immediately raise an eyebrow at the comment. I may be sick as hell right now, but my libido definitely isn't. "Excuse me?"

A beautiful shade of cherry settles in her cheeks before she begins to stammer, "Ms. Willows, uh, I….didn't mean….what I meant was…."

"I knew what you meant, Mac. Calm down. And I think that's a good idea," I turn to walk up the stairs and immediately take note of the fact that she's right behind me.

As if she knew what I was about to ask, she spoke up. "Can't have you falling down the stairs, can we?"

We reach the landing and I motion to the door of my room. "I'll just change and be right out."

Mac just smiles and nods. A few minutes later I emerge wearing sweatpants and a tank top.

"Why don't you grab a pillow? You can lie down on the couch downstairs so I can keep an eye on you," she suggests before I pull the door to my room shut.

I close my eyes and grab the door frame in a vain attempt to stop the tilt-a-whirl ride in my head. I feel my knees slightly buckle before strong, yet feminine arms, grab me to hold me up.

"Alright, that's it. Down to the couch we go," she firmly states as she drapes one of my arms over her shoulder and wraps her arm around my waist.

We slowly descend the stairs and she guides me gently to the couch. A few minutes later she returns and tenderly lifts my head to put a pillow behind it and drapes a light blanket over me. "I took these off your bed. I hope that's okay," she says to me apologetically.

My eyes are closed, but a smile crosses my lips instinctively. Barely above a whisper, I ask my caretaker, "This is the kinda thing I do for my little girl. Do you have kids?"

There's a slight pause and I can tell she's trying to decide how best to answer my question. "I had a daughter." There's a certain melancholy in her voice. I'm not blind to the pain just saying that must have caused her and decide not to push the issue for now.

"Ms. Willows?"

"Catherine. Cath. Anything but Ms. Willows. Please. I know I'm old, but I don't need you to point out just _how old_. Okay?"

"Okay. Catherine…..could you tell me what your symptoms are? I think we should note what's going on with you…just in case."

I'm speaking barely above a whisper and it takes me a while to get my words out because I'm fighting the nausea. "Nausea…vomiting…dizziness…stomach cramps…headache…"

I pull my legs up nearly to my chin in an effort to help the stomach cramps subside. I feel her sit down beside me on the couch and then there's the warm contact of her hand on my back. She makes slow, lazy circles on my back. It's so soothing. It reminds me of what my mother always did for us when we were sick and what I do for Lindsey when she's ill.

XXXXX

I'm not sure how much time has passed between falling asleep on the couch and waking up, but I feel a million times better than I did when I first got home. I groggily push myself up from the couch I've been sleeping on and trudge up the stairs to my bathroom.

I stand in front of the mirror and take in the scary sight that is me. My hair is disheveled. My eyeliner and mascara are smeared. I'm truly a sight to behold. I wash my face, brush my teeth and wrestle my hair into submission before heading back downstairs.

For the first time, I notice that Mac is nowhere to be seen. "Mac?" I call out for her. No answer. "Mac?" I say a little louder.

I hear a faint, "Back here."

I walk down the hallway and find her in the room I first discovered yesterday when Sara and I arrived. She's sitting in a chair facing the different photos on the wall and has a file in her hand. I walk up behind her, place my hands on her shoulders before resting my chin on her head. "Whatcha doin'?"

"I'm just looking through these files, hoping that maybe I can pick up on something that someone else missed. I tired of watching you sleep after the first two hours."

I sit on the edge of the table and she turns around in the chair to face me. "Jeez, how long was I out?"

McKenzie looks down at her watch and says, "About eight hours."

She's looking a little nervous and intuitively I know something is bothering her. "Something up?"

She exhales a deep breath, like she's trying to get her nerve up to speak. "While you were out, your phone rang. I know you said you had a little girl and I didn't want her to just get put through to your voice mail, so I answered your phone."

I sat up straight and my arms crossed my chest. "Who was it? Was it Jenny?" I know the answer before she confirms it. "Oh, well. What did she have to say?"

"First of all, she wanted to speak with you. And when I told her you were asleep, she wanted to know who I was and why I was answering your phone. I tried explaining, but I don't think she believed a single word I was saying," she looks down at the file in her hands before glancing back up at me. "That was your girlfriend, wasn't it?"

I push myself off of the table and slowly move around the room, studying the pictures. "I'm not sure 'girlfriend' is an accurate term to describe my relationship with Jenny."

"Then what is?"

I sigh heavily as I run my fingers through my hair. "I dunno. A distraction, perhaps? I've gone out on four dates with her. All we ever do is talk. I can't seem to get past the talking stage with her. And it's certainly not for her lack of trying." I feel myself blushing as I turn around to find Mac studying me. I smile weakly under her piercing gaze. "Since Sara….I've been numb. I wanted to feel something again. Jenny's attractive, intelligent, and young." I laugh deeply, "I guess it was three too many dates, right?"

The room suddenly feels very small and I feel very naked. I've known this woman for less than twelve hours. Well, I've known her that long and was unconscious for two-thirds of that time. But still, I barely know her, yet with little effort, she manages to get me to say things that I don't even want to say to myself much less another living, breathing human being.

"Maybe you're not ready to move on from whatever you had with Ms. Sidle."

"That's just it," I say as I move closer to her. "I am ready. I have to be ready. I can't keep thinking about Sara. We had our chance—a chance. And it wasn't meant to be. I've always believed in never looking back and never regretting. I don't regret my time with her and I don't regret the relationship ending. I just…I don't trust Sara. I love her. I'll always love her. But I feel like I don't know her anymore. And you can't have a future with a stranger."

I sink into a chair at the table and take a cleansing breath to move past my little scene. "Did you discover anything new in the files?"

I sit there watching Agent Ramirez lightly rubbing her forehead. "Yeah…well, no. I'm not sure." She sat up in the chair and slid it closer to the table. "I don't think you have complete case files here, Catherine."

"What? Why would they set this room up for us and leave only partial files? That doesn't make much sense."

"I know. It doesn't make sense. That's my point. I know Liam. He's the one that set everything up for you two here. This room was his idea. I helped gather some of the files. I _know_ this isn't everything."

She certainly had my full attention at this point. "What do you mean?" While waiting for her response, my mind wandered back to the previous evening when I caught Sara sneaking back upstairs. Had she done something to the case files? Removed pieces that would help us crack this case?

"Well," Mac started, "you're missing interview notes on this case here." She pushed a file toward me. "The evidence log for this case is missing." She handed me another file. "This first case, I swear, there were nearly twice as many papers in this file as there are now." She was flipping through that file, comparing it to what she remembered. "I just can't understand why Liam would only give you partial files."

As those words leave her mouth, I'm thinking to myself, _he didn't. _Just when I thought I couldn't feel more contempt for the woman who once shared my bed, I manage to.

I can't think about this any longer. I stand up and walk towards the door.

"I'm hungry. Actually, I'm starving. Would you care to join me for dinner?" I smile softly in her direction.

"I'd love to," she says almost too eagerly as she jumps up and walks toward me.

XXXXX

"I can't believe you don't think this is comfort food!" I say to my dinner companion as I break off another piece of my grilled cheese sandwich. "When we were sick, my mother _always_ made us tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. It's what I crave now when I don't feel well."

"Sorry, I just don't see it," she says as she lifts the tomato soup-soaked sandwich to her mouth.

I look at her and giggle.

"What's so funny?" she asks seriously.

"You've got a little something," I reach out my hand toward her face to wipe away the melted cheese from her chin, "right there." Her eyes flutter shut as my hand touches her. I immediately pull back like I've just stuck my hand in a vat of molten steel.

Her eyes are glassy when she opens them and I'm sure that mine are, too. I have not had sex for seven months. Seven. Very. Long. Months. The last person I had sex with was Sara. I will myself not to think about her and enjoy this moment.

I stand up and start to clear my dishes and move to the kitchen. I'm putting the dishes in the sink when I feel her behind me, pressing me against the counter. My eyes are shut and my heart is racing. I feel her reaching around me and then I hear the clatter of her dishes in the sink. _Shit, she was only putting her dishes in the sink. Get a grip, Willows._

I will myself to calm down and turn on the water to begin washing dishes, but she doesn't move. She's still pressed against my back. She puts her hands on my hips and then I feel her luscious, warm, silken lips caressing the ivory skin of my neck.

A new type of dizziness overtakes me as I shut the water off and enjoy the feeling of her mouth on my neck. Mac's arms move around my waist and pull me closer against her. I hear myself moan at the contact with her body before a cough brings me back to my senses.

At the sound, Mac releases me and steps backwards immediately. I slowly and deliberately open my eyes, already prepared for who I'm going to see.

Sara. I see the conflict in her eyes. Pain. Anger. Hurt. And I know I put those there.

For reasons I can't explain, I feel guilty. I feel guilty and dirty and I...I don't care.

"Sara, I'm surprised you're back so soon. You mean you weren't able to solve the case in one afternoon?"

She just glares at Mac coldly before turning her icy gaze to me. "Well, someone's obviously feeling better. Then again, you've never been beyond using your sexuality to get what you want. Have you, Cath?"

A neutral voice spoke up and broke our staring contest. "I think I should go. Cath," she said as she planted a chaste kiss on my cheek, "call if you need me. Ms. Sidle, have a good evening."

Agent Ramirez started for the door and Sara followed her.

Once she opened her car door, she turned to face Sara. "Was there something you needed, Ms. Sidle?"

Anger burned in Sara's eyes. "Stay away from Catherine."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Sara stepped closer to McKenzie. "Stay away from her," she said as she pushed McKenzie against the car. "Just, stay away from her."

Mac was quick to reverse their positions, pinning Sara against the car. "Listen, Sidle. I don't know what you're playing at here, but Catherine doesn't belong to you. You can't tell her what to do and you sure as hell can't tell me what to do, _chica_. I suggest," she loosened her grip on Sara, "you take it easy," straightened Sara's shirt, "and put the missing pieces of those files back before Catherine figures it out."

Mac calmly stepped into her car, shut the door and drove off.

Sara stood there, only able to stare at the disappearing car in the distance.

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	13. Chapter 13

**Thank you so much for the reviews...Now the chapter you've all been waiting for...rock on!**

**Enjoy,**

**So and Scuby ;)

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Chapter 13: Sara**

I come back home a dozen hours after Cath left HQ. I open the door slowly, because if she's sleeping, I don't want to wake her up. I walk in as silently as a cat, focusing on being quiet. When I finally turn away from the door, I stop dead on my tracks. I feel a heavy angry fist crashing into my guts with so much force that my breath is cut short. My brain doesn't seem to be able to register with the scene unfolding in front of me.

Catherine's hands are gripping the edge of the sink tightly; her head is thrown back while she's leaning her body against Agent Ramirez's. She's moaning, but certainly not out of pain since the mouth and tongue of the agent seem engaged in a rather pleasant meeting with Cath's skin. Ramirez's arms are around Cath's waist caressing her body.

I don't think I've ever felt more hurt than I do right now. Talking with Cath about the people she sees is one thing, but to witness her having fun with someone else, to see her body react to someone else's touch is just un-fucking-bearable. I feel my heart bleeding in my chest.

Then all this pain turns into something more violent - anger, pure anger. I clench my fists tight enough to make my knuckles turn white before coughing loudly to make my presence known.

At the sound, Ramirez releases her grip on Catherine and steps backwards immediately. Catherine opens her eyes slowly and looks at me. No trace of remorse or guilt can be found there.

"Sara, I'm surprised you're back so soon. You mean you weren't able to solve the case in one afternoon?" she says to me with sarcasm.

My eyes are burning holes into Ramirez's face. I turn to Catherine, looking at her coldly. "Well, someone's obviously feeling better. Then again, you've never been beyond using your sexuality to get what you want. Have you, Cath?" My anger fuels my words.

"I think I should go. Cath," Ramirez announces before planting a kiss on Cath's cheek, "call if you need me. Ms. Sidle, have a good evening." She says to me with a little smile. I want nothing more than to wipe that smile off her face with my fists. She goes to the door to leave. I follow her outside.

Once she opens her car door, she turns to face me. "Was there something you needed, Ms. Sidle?" she asks with that same little smile, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Stay away from Catherine," I growl.

She chuckles. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," I take one more step closer to her, violating her personal space. "Stay away from her," I say before pushing her bluntly against the car. "Just, stay away from her."

She reverses our positions, quickly pinning me against the car. "Listen, Sidle. I don't know what you're playing at here, but Catherine doesn't belong to you. You can't tell her what to do and you sure as hell can't tell me what to do, _chica_. I suggest," she loosens her grip on me, "you take it easy," straightens my shirt, "and put the missing pieces of those files back before Catherine figures it out."

She calmly steps into her car, shuts the door and drives off. I stand there looking at her car driving away. Rage is oozing from me. I don't like her. I don't like her at all.

I turn back to the house and see Catherine looking at me with the same expression as her new friend. There's a little disdain in her eyes with a little smile playing on her lips. I know she's laughing at what she would call my childish behavior.

I just past her an into the house. I laugh humorlessly. "To think that I was worried about you! What a joke!" I say scornfully.

"When I think that I trusted you," Cath shouts back. "You stole those files from the conference room," she accuses me.

I laugh bitterly "Poor Cath!. You're so fucking naïve sometimes. What else did she tell you to get into your pants?" I demand. I shake my head, "You know, I'm starting to feel sorry that I came back, obviously her and her very capable hands were about to show you quite a good time," I can see hurt in her eyes but I'm beyond the point of actually caring how she feels. "I have to admit that you're slacking off though. I mean it took you half a day to get her. We both know that ten minutes are more than enough when you put your mind to it," I challenge her.

Suddenly, I see her hand ready to crash against my face. Luckily, I'm faster so I catch her wrist forcefully. She tries with the other hand but once more I'm faster than she is. I back her against the nearest wall harshly. "Fuck you Sara!" she spits.

"Really? You sure you don't want me to fuck you instead?" I laugh. She's struggling, trying free herself, but I hold on and push her a little more.

"Let me go!" she orders. She manages to push herself away from the wall, but I push her back powerfully making her gasp as the air in her lungs is forced out. Our faces are now only inches apart.

I look at her. Then, out of habit, my eyes drift to her lips. When we were lovers, we had quite a few rough lovemaking sessions. And now that we're both very angry at each other, that familiar feral desire stirring within me. At this moment, I don't know whether I want to fight her or to fuck her. I feel myself leaning in to kiss her, but stop inches away from her lips. "I guess it's too bad my hands aren't as capable as those of your new friend," I whisper with derision before letting go of her. I take a step back and see hurt and shock flashing over her face.

I snort in disgust before leaving the house.

xxxxx

Thirty minutes later, I'm at Spencer's. Liam and Aaron are already waiting for me. "At last," Spencer greets me. I send him a cold stare meant to warn him that I'm not in the mood to be messed around with.

"We have a problem. Your brilliant idea is backfiring on us. Ramirez knows the files aren't complete," I say as I walk into the living room.

"Does your friend know about it?" Liam asks.

"Yeah Agent Ramirez was kind enough to provide her this information before practically fucking her right in front of me," I seethe.

"Well, I doubt your friend was against it," Spencer starts but I punch him in the face hard before grabbing his collar and pinning him against the wall.

"You ever talk about Catherine again and I'll make a woman out of you. You got me?"

"Your feelings for her are going to do us in," he says.

I'm about to lose it again when I feel a hand on my shoulder. "Let him go. We have to keep it together."

I let go of Spencer, but my rage remains intact.

We settle in the living room and start to discuss where we should look to find the killer. "We've looked around. We started with Ron's family. His brother was definitely capable of doing it."

"But?" I ask.

"He wasn't in the location of the murders when they happened and then he has an alibi for each one of them. So he's out."

"Well that leaves us with anybody. There are a lot of people who knew Ron, and therefore knew us," Aaron adds.

"Not really. It's a copycat, so there must be something in those scenes that we're missing," Liam states.

"What if it's not a copycat? I mean, we never had any proof that Ron was doing this alone or that he was responsible at all," I offer.

"Then we really don't have any choice left except waiting," Spencer finally says. I sigh heavily. "Listen I don't like this situation any more than you, but we can't do anything for the moment," he adds.

"Let's take another look at the files. Lets look at the details. There must be something different," I propose.

"I agree. The devil's in the details," Aaron backs me up.

We spend almost all night going through the files, pointing out the differences and the similarities. The only thing in our favor is that we are probably the only ones to know more about these cases than the rest of the people working on them.

As time went on, the scene became more complicated. For the first murder, the victim was only dressed like a doll. For each successive murder, something new was added. For the second victim, cards were left in addition to being dressed like a doll. The third victim was also left holding a pendulum. The most recent murder had something new added to the signature--a red rose.

After what must have been hours, Spencer's cell rings. "Hackers," there's a long pause before he speaks again. "Alright thanks," he adds before hanging up. He looks at us and answers our silent question. "Looks like we won't have to wait any longer. They found another victim. Sara, Liam we're going, Aaron go home. We'll keep you posted."

We do as we're told and ten minutes later we're on our way to a new crime scene.

xxxxx

We arrive in a residential area, and I immediately note that the killer is obviously becoming more confident. Some agents are already there. I realize that I haven't called Catherine. I fish for my phone, but stop myself from calling her. The more she stays away from this, the better.

Spencer gives me a new kit and leads me to the scene while Liam is already giving orders to the other agents. I move closer to the body and feel a bit nauseous at the sight of it.

"Young woman, mid twenties, Caucasian, no signs of struggle," the coroner tells me. I nod silently and just stand there, taking the scene in.

I kneel next to the body and start processing it. No traces, no fibers, no nothing. Maybe the autopsy will reveal something more. There's a rose next to the body. I look at it more thoroughly and realize that it's not red. It was white, but a red substance has stained it. I take a sample before bagging the rose. The test comes back negative for human blood. In one of her hands, the victim is holding a pendulum and on her stomach lays a card.

I take the card and check for fingerprints, although I doubt that the killer would be that sloppy. I don't find any. I turn the card around and see something new: a message. I know right away who the killer is talking to. The message says '_you're late…_'. I bag the card and then take care of the pendulum.

I look at the face of the victim and notice something. Her hair has been dyed blonde. Every other victim kept their natural color. This is new. I ponder the significance of this change.

Once I'm done with the body, I get up, take my kit and start to walk around the perimeter.

"Ms. Sidle, I found something you should see," a young CSI tells me.

"It's Sara or just Sidle," I correct him.

"I'm Neil," he replied. "You should see this," he says before leading the way.

We arrive in front of a little wooden chair. There's a book on the seat. "I checked for prints and found none. However, there's something about the book. There are three dollars in it and the pages are full of one word: words," he explains me.

I frown and pick up the book. I open it and just like he said, the word 'words' is printed a thousand times on every page. I look at the three bills then at the pages again. "What's the use of a book without pictures or conversation..." I mumble to myself.

"Beg your pardon?" Neil asks confused.

"You never read _The Adventures of Alice in Wonderland_?" I answer with another question.

"If I did, it was a very long time ago," he says.

"That's the beginning of the story. Alice is waiting in the bank with her sister who's reading a book next to her. She looks at it and thinks to herself 'what's the use of a book without pictures or conversations'. We have the book and the bills represent the bank. The killer is being more accurate," I explain. "Bag this and take the chair to the HQ. We'll examine those again later," I order him. He nods and does as he's told.

There's a little garden on my left so I decide to walk through it. I don't find any shoe prints or traces that someone has recently been there. I wave my flash light around, and something glitters a few feet away from me. I wave my flashlight again to be sure I'm not imagining things and sure enough something is glittering. I move closer to the source and find a hole. A deep one. Like a rabbit hole. There's a shiny silver tea cup on the top of it. Obviously someone wanted us to find it.

A little box is inside. It looks like a music box. Next to the box, there's a white rabbit's head. I close my eyes and breathe deeply. I carefully take the box out and check for fingerprints first. Once more there are none. I open the box expecting to hear some music but it must be broken because no sound comes out. There's another message though: Welcome to Wonderland.

I guess it's official: the game's on.

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	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14: Catherine**

I cannot believe I was busted by Sara. Sara—of all people. It's one thing to hedge around the topic of me dating, but it's something totally different when the former love of your life catches you in the arms of another woman.

I barely know Mac, and yet, I felt so at ease with her. Her arms around me—her mouth on me—her breath caressing my skin. Jesus, I hadn't desired anyone like that since Sara. I'm weak. I'll admit it.

When Mac said she needed to leave and Sara followed her out, I was prepared for fireworks. The scene in the driveway played out just as I would have expected. Sara was obviously trying to piss on her fire hydrant (me) and Mac wasn't going to let her. I saw Sara push Mac against her car and almost walked out there to break the two of them apart. Then I saw Mac grab Sara and switch positions. I couldn't make out what was being said, but Mac obviously made her point because seconds after throwing Sara against the car, she was straightening Sara's clothes and climbing back in her car. Watching Sara standing there just staring after Mac's disappearing car was priceless. I know she saw the smile that was playing at my lips when she turned to come back in the house.

As she walked past me, she started laughing. "To think that I was worried about you! What a joke!"

She wants to talk about trust! Trust?

"When I think that I trusted _you_. _**You**_ stole those files from the conference room." I know she had to have taken those files. She was the only one capable of doing such a thing.

Sara laughs. "Poor, Cath! You're so fucking naïve sometimes! What else did she tell you to get into your pants? You know, I'm starting to feel sorry that I came back, obviously her and her very capable hands were about to show you quite a good time."

I barely have time to register her words before she continues, "I have to admit that you're slacking off though. I mean it took you half a day to get her. We both know that ten minutes are more than enough when you put your mind to it."

Sara Fucking Sidle just crossed a line. Without considering my actions, I draw a hand back to slap her. She grabs my wrist as I come across toward her face. With my free hand, I draw back once again, but she captures that as well. Before I know what's happening, I find myself pushed against a wall. Glaring at her, I spit, "Fuck you, Sara."

She doesn't flinch or anything else. "Really? You sure you wouldn't rather have _me_ fuck _you_ instead?" She laughed dryly at her own statement.

I try to break free of her hold again, screaming, "Let me go!" I manage to push myself away from the wall only to be forced back against it so hard that my breath is knocked out of me.

She's so close to me right now. I can feel her breath on me. I used to get this same rush when we….No! This is not then, I remind myself. We're not a couple. This isn't one of our 'rough and rowdy' sessions.

Her eyes travel from my eyes to my lips and I feel myself beginning to ache with that familiar desire. She leans in to kiss me and stops abruptly. "I guess it's too bad my hands aren't as capable of those of your new friend," she whispers before releasing me and turning to leave.

And that's where she left me. Standing against a wall and rubbing the soreness of her restraining efforts from my wrists.

I'm seething, angry, and pissed off. Twice! Twice tonight I've been turned on and left high and dry—well, not so much dry as frustrated. First Mac. Then Sara. Why don't we go for the trifecta.

This probably isn't the best time to do so, but I find my cell phone and look for Jenny's number. I don't know it by heart—that should tell me something.

"_Who the hell answered your phone earlier?"_ answers the angry voice on the other end of the call.

"Jenny, let me explain."

"_Explain what? That you go out of town with your ex to work a case. That you don't bother calling me. That some strange woman is answering your phone. Which one do you want to explain first? Or is there something else you need to explain at this point?"_

"Yeah, there's something else. Look, Jen, I like you. You're sweet, you're ki…"

"_Whoa! Wait a minute! Are you breaking up with me? 'Cause this sounds like you're breaking up with me."_

Zero to bitch in less than thirty seconds. I think getting older is started to affect me more than I realized. "Jenny, it's hard to break up with someone you don't really consider yourself in a relationship with. We went out a few times and I had fun. The truth is I don't want a relationship right now. I'm not…"

"…_ready to move on from the last one. Well, then you should stay away from women until you are. You know what, Fuck you, Catherine. Fuck you."_ And then, she hung up.

"Well, that went better than I expected," I say aloud to myself.

XXXXX

Sara stormed out of here an hour ago. I don't know when she'll be back, and I don't care. What I do know is that I have a limited amount of time to look for whatever she took from those files last night.

My decision made, I head up the stairs to her room. I'm breathing deeply. On one hand, I desperately want to be wrong. I don't want to find those missing files in her room. On some level, I need to still believe that the Sara I fell in love with still exists. On the other hand, my gut instinct tells me that Sara took those files and that they're somewhere in her room. And when I find them…..

I pushed the door open and looked at the room before me. Typical Sara. The bed wasn't made. There was a towel on the floor from her morning shower. We'd been here less than 48 hours, but she had already put her own little personal touches around the room. A pair of underwear lay on the floor by the dresser. A bra was draped over a chair. Of all the things I missed about having Sara in my life, her tendency towards messiness was one thing I would never miss. Who would have ever guessed that Sara was this messy given her proclivity for neatness in the lab?

I did a once over around the room, trying to memorize where everything was in case I moved something at a later point.

_If I was Sara, where would I hide something?_

I checked under the bed. Nothing.

I checked under the mattress. Nothing.

Dresser. Bed side table. Closet. Nothing.

I stand there with my hands on my hips looking around the room for anything I could have missed. My eyes fall on the desk. Sara's laptop is sitting atop it. And she has a few files to either side of the computer. I look through the files on her desk, but I expect her to be a bit shiftier in hiding things. After all, she is the queen of hiding things. No such luck, these are just the files that she was given back in Vegas about the case.

I take my time and go through every drawer on the right carefully, but I come up with nothing. Zilch. Zippo. Nadda. Nothing other than dust in the top drawer on the left. In the second drawer on the left, I find three additional files. I pull them out. "Yes," I say to myself.

I sit down on the edge of the bed and start to look through these files. These are the files that belong with this serial case. Three files each with a different name. The one commonality is the last name—Sidle.

I put two files aside and open one—Laura Sidle. Obviously, this is Sara's mother. I can tell because the woman in the photo has the same haunted look in her eyes that Sara does. I can feel the anger burning inside me when I start to read her file in earnest. She had endured years of abuse from her husband and eventually snapped, killing him. There had been one witness—Sara. She had even testified against her mother in court. Laura spent some time in a psychiatric facility before being removed to one of California's state run prisons, where she was still at today.

I put that file aside and picked up the one labeled with her father's name—Mark Sidle. He had been stabbed multiple times with a kitchen knife by Sara's mother. It read almost the same as Laura's file, only shorter. I glanced over the autopsy report before closing that file as well.

I took a deep breath before picking up the final, and much thicker, file. I wasn't prepared for what I found inside. There were photos of a young Sara covered in bruises. There were hospital reports which detailed her injuries—fractures, contusions, sprains. _She never told me she was abused._ A bit further into the file I found page after page which detailed the various foster homes she had lived in until she turned 18. _She never told me she was in foster care._ There were at least two dozen homes and various group homes that had taken Sara in over the years. She had been removed from each home for one reason or another. The most common reasons were that she either ran away or was too emotionally detached and depressed.

I heard the garage door on the house opening and quickly put the files back in the drawer before leaving her room. The last thing I wanted was for Sara to catch me going through her stuff.

I shut my bedroom door behind me and sit on the foot of the bed. As it had the previous night, Sara's shadow pauses outside my door. When it finally moves, I fall backwards onto my bed and my mind starts to process all that I've learned today.

I _really_ don't know Sara. I had no idea her mother had killed her father. I had no idea she had witnessed it. I had no idea she had been in foster care—much less bounced from home to home. In fact, I only knew about Sara's life since Harvard. Why hadn't she trusted me enough to tell me these things? With a past like hers, how much could _she_ be trusted?


	15. Chapter 15

**Hey there! first thanks for your reviews. Now I apologize for the delay, it's my fault again ...well no blame it on Time, he's the one playing sneaky on me! Anyway on for chapter 15...**

**Enjoy,**

**So & Scuby ;)

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Chapter 15: Sara **

I finally get home after several hours in the field. I didn't want to go before the preliminary autopsy so I stayed a bit longer at the lab with Spencer and Liam. Things don't look good at all. Just as Liam had predicted, the killer is playful and tonight's crime scene was just more proof that the killer is becoming more daring. He left a lot of clues behind, lots of evidence that we can link to the Alice story. My opinion? The real game has only just begun. And now we have to race against time to catch this guy.

I park the car in the garage and enter the house. I'm about to let Cath know that I'm back, but keep myself from doing so. When we were together, I'd spend most of my time at her place. She gave me a spare key and when I'd come over, I'd say 'Babe I'm home'. If those words were welcome before I think they'd be highly inappropriate right now.

I put my kit down next to the couch and leave my jacket on a chair. I go upstairs and stop in front of Cath's door. I decide against talking to her right now. I know we'll have an argument. I didn't bother to call her when I was in the field to let her know that the killer had struck again. I think I can wait a while longer before having my ass chewed.

I walk into my room and I don't know why, but as soon as I'm in there I get the feeling that something isn't right. I look around and everything looks to be where I left it. Cath would always give me an earful about the mess I left behind myself when I left a room. I've always thought of it as an organized mess.

I take another moment to scan the room and I still don't see anything that is out of place. I shrug to myself and grab my laptop before heading downstairs again. Liam is waiting for me to have a phone conference. We need to process the scene from tonight and make a comparison with the previous one.

Once I'm in the conference room, I set up my laptop and organize the files around me. I dial a number on the land line phone and wait for an answer.

_"Novacek"_

"Liam, it's me. I'm settled, are you ready?"

"_Give me a minute,"_ he answers. I hear some background noises and the distinguishable tone of Spencer's voice not far behind _"Ok, let's go."_

"Alright. We can clearly say that the killer is escalating. Tonight scene was the start of something big to come."

"_Yeah, I think he's following a scheme. You know, the details are consistent with the story so the question is to know how far he's willing to go to be accurate," _Spencer says.

"Let's not guess. I think we should focus on the details of the crime scene we just processed. There was nothing on the victim, no surprise here. The autopsy revealed that she had been raped and the COD is consistent with an oxygen shot in the arm. No semen, no hair, no epithelial cells, zilch. But there were two new things. First, the victim's hair has been dyed blonde. I don't think she did it herself. I think the killer did it. He's never shown any preference for his victim. So far he would just disguise them. But seeing how thorough he was tonight, I'm inclined to believe that he wanted the victim to be perfect. Then the victim had tattoos. Three to be precise. But there was a fourth one, which was fresh and incomplete. It had to have been in the hours immediately preceding her death. I'm certain it's the beginning of a pattern."

"_You're thinking about some puzzle?"_Liam asks.

"Yeah, that or maybe some kind of signature, so I thought about checking the previous autopsy reports to see if we missed anything,"

"_Alright. You found blood on the scene. Labs came back and it's rabbit blood. Some agents are still looking for the rest of the animal even though I don't think we'll find it there. I mean, there wasn't that much blood around, and killing even a small animal is a messy business. My guess is that he didn't kill the rabbit anywhere near the victim."_ Spencer states.

"_We tried to trace the bills but found nothing conclusive. There wasn't any trace evidence on them either. The chair is a kid's chair that can be found in any store specializing in garden items or toys. Needless to say, it's a dead end. Now, there's something about the card. It's from a limited edition deck of cards. And before you say anything, there are exactly two thousand copies in circulation. So, it's essentially a dead end too. But it's a new detail, because before the card came from a regular deck of cards,"_ Liam reports.

"So our suspicions were correct. The real game has begun."

"_One last thing, the music box is unique. It was made by a professional. There's no signature so we can't trace who bought it or who made it, but we know this much. It's a unique model,"_ Liam adds.

We talk some more and then we decide to study the files on our own and call one another if there's something new.

I'm so lost in work that I don't hear Catherine come in. "Is it true?" she spits more than asks.

"Is what true?"

"The killer struck again and you didn't call me to the scene!" she shouts at me.

"Well, I see you have an informant," I simply answer before looking at the file I have in hand again.

"Yeah, Mac just called to see if I was alright and if processing the scene went well," she elaborates still angry.

I chuckle humorlessly. The more I'm on this case, the more I don't like Ramirez. Wait, it sounded like I had liked her at some point. As time goes on, my distaste for Ramirez grows. There that's better.

"Well, you were sick. Then you weren't needed. Everything was under control. And look, I'm back in one piece, so you won't get into any trouble. Your job as babysitter is still safe," I say with sarcasm.

"Don't you ever do this again!" she seethes through her teeth. "I'm here on this case with you whether you like it or not. You do something like this to me again and so help me god I'll make you regret this," she says with fire before storming out of the room.

I focus again on what I was doing, not paying attention to Cath's little outburst.

No freaking way!

I feel like a ton of bricks just crashed on my head. I know what was odd in my room earlier. Cath's scent was lingering in the air. It is the same one lingering in the room now. She's been in my room! Why would she go there? Shit! The files!

I leave the conference room hastily and run to my room upstairs. I lock the door behind me and look around frantically. I go to the desk and look it over. I move the front panel silently and nothing seems to have been touched. I breathe out in relief and put the panel back in its position.

Wait, Cath doesn't know there are secret compartments in this desk. They are so subtle that you can't find them unless you already know where they are.

I sit on the chair and turn my attention to the drawers. The second on the left is slightly ajar. I open it slowly and am surprised to find files in it. This drawer was empty – at least on the surface – when I last checked it. I take the files and look at them.

My throat constricts immediately, making it harder for me to breathe. What the fuck?!

Laura Sidle, Mark Sidle, Sara Sidle…

Those are the files, my files. I can feel myself breathing shakily as my brain is processing the new information. Many questions are now swirling in my mind, making me dizzy and nauseous.

How did they end up there? Why? When? Who?

Catherine? No, that's impossible. I can count on one hand who knows about my past and she's not one of them. Or is she now? I know she's been in my room and I doubt that it was to borrow a pen. I have no proof that she has read those files. But who put them here?

Maybe I'm dreaming. Maybe Cath didn't go in my room. It could have been an olfactory mirage. But what if she has been in here and saw the files? How the hell am I supposed to know if she has?

I know she didn't have any reason to look into my past. She has no idea about what happened so no reason to look for files.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!! This isn't good. This isn't good at all!

As I'm focusing on composing myself again, a strange sound reaches my ears. I look around to situate it in the room and get up to find the source of the noise. I kneel down near the bed and look under it. There it is – the regular sound of a ticking clock. My fear is escalating as the first thought entering my head is that I don't have a clock with the 'tick tock' sound and that this could be something more dangerous than a clock.

I grab my flashlight from my night stand and look under the bed. There's a brown flat envelope taped on the bed frame. I reach in my pocket, glad that I still have my spare gloves there. I put them on and reach for the package carefully. It's too small to be a bomb that's for sure.

I open it and feel cold sweat running down my spine. There's a pendulum in the envelope. I take the pendulum out and it's ticking. I unclasp the little panel hiding the clock and find a little note inside saying: _'time doesn't erase lies'_.

I feel my heart beating unhealthily in my chest, threatening to destroy my ribcage. The killer was here. He was here and left a message for me.

He knows I'm here and he has access to the house.

Ramirez! She was here earlier. She could have put that shit here. I mean she could have access to my personal files and could have made a copy of them. Cath was surely passed out for a while so she had the opportunity. But she doesn't fit the profile. Then, again she's the profiler so she could have made up a profile.

No, she can't be. I mean that's impossible. We found the body not too long after I left the house. A scene like that would require hours of work. She didn't have time to do it. And then there's the little fact that she couldn't possibly know about my past.

So I guess that's my second warning. I'm not safe anywhere. More importantly, Cath might be in danger, too.

I need to find Liam and Spencer.

I get up and take the files with me putting the envelope and the pendulum in my pocket. I look around one last time, making sure that I didn't forget anything and that the hidden files are safe.

I head downstairs silently hoping that Cath isn't there. Lucky me, I think she's still in her room. I put the file in my backpack.

There's something I need to do before I go. I grab a glass and pour some fresh milk in it. I go upstairs again and knock on Cath's door. I don't wait for her answer before going in.

"I don't remember saying you could come in," she says with venom. She's sitting at her desk looking at files.

"I'm sorry," I say. That gets her immediate attention. She turns to me with a frown, anger still visible on her features. "I should have called you. I guess I was being petty about earlier. I'm sorry about it. Now, I came here to make a truce with you. We're stuck here until new orders come in and we might as well try to make this as comfortable as possible," I elaborate.

"You're right. We should start now. And for that I need answers," she states "Did you take files from the conference room?" she asks.

I've never been a good liar, she knows me intimately enough to call any bluff on my part. "I told you the other night that I had heard noises and that I was checking around. Now, if you don't trust me that's you problem, not mine. I refuse to justify myself because someone put doubts in your mind about me. If you don't trust me then it's too bad," I answer angrily putting the glass on her desk. I stand at the door before turning to her again. "One last thing. Don't snoop around in my room again," I say firmly. Better reverse the accusation and put my trust in her in the line.

I slam my door shut and head downstairs. Two minutes later I'm out with my backpack, getting in the car, and leaving a message for Liam saying that we need to talk.

Things are getting worse as time goes on.

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**Thanks for reading**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Sorry for the long break between updates. We're down to less than a week left in school and for some reason, my students insist that I get them ready for their exams. **

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**Chapter 16: Catherine**

I'm still sitting on the edge of my bed when I hear Sara ascend the stairs. I can't believe that Sara never told me about her past. She knew all about mine. I was open and honest with her from the beginning of our relationship. She knew I had been a stripper. She knew I had been a coke addict. She knew that my father was a less than stand up guy. And she even knew the circumstances under which I discovered he was my father.

Why hadn't she trusted me enough to tell me her secrets? With a past like hers, how much could _she _be trusted? She shouldn't hide behind her past and use it as an excuse to keep secrets. I'm still sitting there and berating Sara when guilt suddenly overtakes me. With a past like hers, how could she be expected to trust others? The very people who were supposed to love and protect her from the evils of the world turned out to be the monsters that are only supposed to exist in the nightmares of children. Was this what held her back in our relationship? Was this why…

I can't keep thinking along these lines. After I hear her bedroom door shut, I fall backwards on the bed and close my eyes. My mind is running a million miles a minute. I feel incredibly guilty for even considering that Sara might not be trustworthy just because of her past. I will myself to fall asleep. Within moments, I'm shrouded in the arms of Morpheus.

XXXXXX

'_Sara, I can't keep doing this," I said weakly to her._

'_Doing what?' she purred into my ear as she lifted my shirt over my head._

'_I love you, but it's not enough,' I moaned as her hands drifted over my stomach._

'_I love you, too. What more do you want?' she said as she pulled my head to the side exposing my neck._

'_I want all of you. I don't want bits and pieces anymore. It's not enough.'_

'_Even if it's this bit?' she said as she sucked on my earlobe. 'Or this piece?' she said as she slid her fingertips beneath the waistband of my underwear._

_Despite my ragged breathing and weak knees, I broke free of her hold and turned to face her. I placed my hand over her heart. 'This is the piece I want. I want in there as much as you're in here,' I put my other hand over my own heart. 'Let me in, Sara. Please. For me. For you. For us. You're holding back and I can't be with part of you anymore. I want to be with all of you…or none of you.'_

_Tears were filling her eyes as she spoke softly in a childlike voice, 'You have all that I can give you.'_

'_Then we have a problem, because I want more.'_

_XXXXXX_

I have no idea how long I've slept when I'm awakened by the incessant vibrating of my phone. In reaching for it in the dark, I knock it off of the bedside table. I groan as I roll out of bed and look for the phone on the floor.

I don't bother looking at who is calling as I flip the phone open. "This better be good. I **was** asleep."

"I'm sorry, Catherine. I was just calling to see what you thought of that crime scene from earlier tonight. I was surprised that you weren't there considering that Sara was," Agent Ramirez said.

"Crime scene? Is that what we're calling our dinner from earlier? Or are you talking about the scuffle you and Sara got into?" I couldn't help but laugh a little at my own joke.

I could hear her serious tone as she said, "I don't joke about crimes, Ms. Willows. Our serial struck again earlier. I'm surprised you aren't still processing evidence with our resident labrats."

"I'm sorry. I must still be asleep. Did you just say that the serial struck again and that Sara was at the scene?" I was certainly hoping that my hearing was failing me or that I was still sleeping peacefully.

"You're awake and that's what I said. She didn't…"

"…I'm sorry. I gotta go, Mac. I have something to take care of."

That fucking bitch. Every opportunity she gets to give me the shaft on this case…How fucking difficult would it have been to pick up the phone and call me and tell me that the killer had struck again? How fucking difficult would it have been? Seriously? How difficult?

I throw open my bedroom door and head downstairs ready to confront Sara.

XXXX

She was sitting there at the table with her little laptop in front of her, gabbing on the phone with whom I could only presume to be Spencer. If I wasn't pissed off before, I am now.

I wish I could impress upon her how truly angry I am at this point. "Is it true?"

She doesn't even bother looking up. "Is what true?" I'd love to wipe that smug look right off of her face.

"The killer struck again and you didn't call me to the scene!" I'm shouting at her now. I'd really like to shout, slap, kick, bite—anything to hurt her.

She looked up and barely made eye contact with me. "Well, I see you have an informant," she says before looking down at the file in her hand.

"Yeah, Mac just called to see if I was alright and if processing the scene went well." I'm sure there must be smoke coming out of my ears. My head is pounding and I'm sure that my blood pressure must be through the roof. I'm livid and there's no way that Sara doesn't know this. She better fucking know it.

Sara just laughs. "Well, you were sick. Then, you weren't needed. Everything was under control. And look, I'm back in one piece, so you won't get into any trouble. Your job as babysitter is still safe." She flashes a fake smile in my direction, which only pisses me off even more.

I get right in her face and speak through clenched teeth, "Don't you ever do this again! I'm here on this case with you whether you like it or not. You do something like this to me again and so help me god I'll make you regret this."

We lock eyes for a moment, neither wanting to be the first to look away. When she breaks eye contact to go back to her file, I storm out of the room in silent victory.

I make my way to my room and stomp on each and every step reiterating just how angry I am. I'm mumbling to myself, "Like she couldn't have picked up the phone and called me. Thirty seconds. That's all it would've taken. _Cath, there's a new scene. Here's the address._ Then again, she had the damn car, how would I have gotten there?" I freeze on the steps. "Shit, I hadn't thought of that." I shrug my shoulders, "No use in going down and telling her that there's no way I could have gotten there anyway."

I finish going up the stairs and open my door harshly, slamming it behind me. I'm sure she heard that.

I'm too wound up to sleep. I pull out some files from a cold case that I keep to review whenever I have time. I hear Sara's footsteps falling quickly on the steps as she runs up the stairs and down the hall to her room. I'm still sitting there studying the file when I hear Sara knock on my door. Before I can even answer, she's opened the door and has walked into the room.

I swear, this woman has grown a set of brass balls. "I don't remember saying you could come in."

I notice the milk in her hand. When we were together and had a misunderstanding, she'd always bring me a glass of cold milk. I guess it was supposed to make her apology go down easier. It was always a nice gesture though, especially considering how she said she could never understand how I was able to drink milk the way I did. She couldn't stand the taste of it.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I should have called you. I guess I was being petty about earlier. I'm sorry about it. Now, I came here to make a truce with you. We're stuck here until new orders come in and we might as well try to make this as comfortable as possible," she feebly attempts to explain her earlier behavior. Still, she is attempting to make amends.

"You're right. We should start now. And for that I need answers. Did you take files from the conference room?"

I'll know if she's lying. I always know if she's lying. She has that eye-twitch thing that goes on when she's being anything less than honest. Not only that, but I'm a mother. I'm genetically programmed to know when someone is lying.

"I told you the other night that I had heard noises and that I was checking around. Now, if you don't trust me, that's your problem, not mine. I refuse to justify myself because someone put doubts in your mind about me. If you don't trust me then it's too bad," she answers angrily putting the glass of milk on my desk. She stands in the door before turning to me again. "One last thing, don't snoop around in my room again." She slams the door behind her as she stormed down the stairs and out of the house. A moment later I hear the garage door opening and tires squealing in the road as Sara speeds away.

I pick the glass of milk up and drink it down in one big gulp as I dial Mac's number. It only rings once before the disembodied voice answers.

"_Ramirez."_

"Hey, Agent Ramirez. It's Catherine Willows."

"_Catherine, please call me Mac. I insist."_

I decide to acquiesce and call her by her nickname. "Okay, Mac," I say as I smile into the phone. "I got off of the phone rather hastily with you earlier. I just wanted to call you back and apologize."

"_There's no need for you to apologize, Catherine. I can't say that I'd have reacted any differently if I found out that my partner was leaving me out of the loop on an investigation like this. Did she at least have a good explanation?"_

I snort into the phone. "An explanation, yes. A good explanation, no. She gave me some lame fucking line about me being sick and not really being needed. And then, to top it off, she said that my job as babysitter was safe because she had made it back without a scratch on her. And then she got really pissed when she found out that you had called me and told me about the scene."

"_She's threatened by me. She walked in on us earlier this evening and then got in my face out in the driveway after that. She still thinks of you as hers, you know that?"_

I was really hoping she wouldn't bring up the events of earlier this evening. I guess we'll have to talk about that now. "Yeah, about tonight," as I thought about the feeling of her lips on me and her arms around me, I suddenly felt very guilty. "You know, Mac, I told you that I was ready to move on from Sara. But the truth is, despite how much I distrust her right now, I found out some things earlier this evening that may explain the reason we had many of the problems we had."

"_Really? You mean she told you the things you had been wanting to know?"_

"Not exactly…" I'm cut off before I can finish my sentence.

"…_then what? If she didn't tell you, how'd you find out the things you found out?"_

I take a deep breath and exhale. "Well, I was in her…"

Suddenly, nausea overtakes me again. I drop the phone and run into the bathroom.

XXXXX

"What are you doing here?" My voice is hoarse and my throat feels like I've been drinking shots of battery acid.

"Well, we were in the middle of a conversation when I heard the phone hit the floor. Then I recognized the sound of you puking your guts out—once again. I waited and waited, and you never came back. I tried calling _your friend_, Ms. Sidle, but she never answered her cell. I got worried," she says as she brushes strands of hair out of my eyes. "I knew how sick you were yesterday and….I didn't want you to be alone."

I suddenly realize that I'm in bed and I'm not wearing the clothes I had on when I last remember being conscious. "How did I get in bed? And how did I get in these clothes?"

Mac blushes and hangs her head slightly. "Well, first of all, I had to use the key Liam gave me to get into the house. And when I found you in the bathroom, you were out cold. I didn't think it was a good idea to put you to bed with the clothes you had on—if you know what I mean. So, I changed your clothes and put you in the bed."

My eyes went wide with the realization that she had seen me naked. I sat up in the bed. And I obviously did that a little too quickly as the room started to spin. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. "You…you saw me naked?" I lay my head back down and keep my eyes closed.

A smile crosses her face, "Not completely. I did leave your bra and panties on. So, I'd say that I've seen no more of you than anyone who's ever seen you in a bikini."

"Oh." That's all I can say. Oh. How eloquent!

We're both lying there, looking at each other, when it hits me. "The milk."

"The cookies," she says in response.

"No, the milk. Sara brought me a glass of milk before she left. I drank it before I called you. And then I got sick again. Yesterday, I drank the coffee and I got sick. What if someone's poisoning me?"

Mac sat on the edge of the bed. "Who would want to poison you? Sara would never do that and no one here knows you well enough to want to kill you—yet." She smiles. I know she's trying to lighten the mood, but it's not working.

The wheels in my head are turning now. Every little cog is catching on the next cog. I stand and start to pace the room.

"No, it makes sense. But who?"

Mac's expression turns serious. "Who has the most to gain by you not being involved in this case?"

Without even having to really consider the question, I answer, "The killer, of course."

"Well, whoever is poisoning you must be the killer then. That is, if you are being poisoned."

My anger is growing exponentially. When I get an idea in my head, I'm like a piranha on fresh meat. "I'm pretty damn sure I'm being poisoned. If you don't think I am, why don't you go downstairs and pour yourself a glass of milk."

"Alright, alright. Let's say you are being poisoned. And let's concede that it's the milk that made you sick. You say Sara brought you the glass of milk. Why would she want to poison you?"

"Because she knows that I know she took some of the files from the conference room. She's trying to hide something. And the only reason she'd be doing that is if she's connected to these murders."

"Yeah, but you got sick at headquarters yesterday, too. Did Sara bring you that cup of coffee?" Mac is playing the devil's advocate, and I know it's not because she actually likes Sara.

"No, but she wasn't in the room either. She could have put god knows what in the coffee and then had someone bring it to me." I am abruptly struck by the notion that Sara could have very well done this.

I move to the window and look down at the street. _Sara wouldn't do this, would she?_

"Mac, I want to take a shower. I need to wash the last few hours off and think for a few minutes. Would you mind waiting downstairs for me?"

She reaches for my hand and squeezes it as she walks toward the door. "No problem."

XXXXX

I was just getting out of the shower when I heard the garage door open and shut. _Shit,_ I think to myself._ Sara's home and Mac's here. _

I hear the front door open and the unmistakable sound of Sara's voice as she says, "What the fuck are you doing here? I thought I told you to stay away from her. Did I fail to make that clear to you?"

I hurriedly throw on some clothes and open my bedroom door. I step out onto the landing at the top of the stairs in time to see Mac walking into the living room. Stopping so that she is shoulder to shoulder with Sara, she leans down next to her ear and whispers something I can't hear.

Sara takes a few quick steps toward Mac and just as Mac turns around to face her, Sara plants her shoulder in her midsection and tackles her to the ground.

"Catherine is too smart for you. She's going to figure out this game you're playing with her. Just stay away from her," Sara warns through gritted teeth.

"I told you once already, Cath is a big girl and she can decide who she wants to be around. You don't get to decide that for her. "

Sara reaches back and punches Mac square in the jaw.

She is reaching back a second time when I scream her name.

"Sara!"

Sara looks up in the direction of my voice and then back at the woman beneath her. Ramirez is smiling. Sara looks back at me and then at her fist before pushing herself off of Ramirez. "I will kill you if you hurt her," Sara warns as she once again storms out the front door.

The only words I hear are _I will kill you._


	17. Chapter 17

**Ok so I'm sorry for the dela and I'm the one to blame with my study and all. Go on scuby say it I'm a slacker :p... hey I'm proud of it...lol... Anyway here's the update. Thank you guys so much for your reviews, you rock!**

**Enjoy**

**So and Scuby ;)

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Chapter 17: Sara **

Bitch!

I'm pacing the front porch. I need to punch something so I go to the tree in front of the house and pound my fist into it several times. Bitch! Bitch! Fucking Bitch!

When I don't feel my fist anymore, I lean my forehead against the tree and close my eyes, poorly attempting to calm down.

xxxxx

"_What are you thinking about?" Cath asked me._

_We were lying in bed naked our bodies entwined as one. It was our six month anniversary. That day was a catastrophe at the beginning. We had planned on a nice day, but chance wasn't with us. I had to stay at the lab longer than Cath. Then when I got home she gave me an earful about forgetting Lindsey at school. For the first time, I had forgotten to pick her up. Then we tried to salvage the evening with a romantic dinner. I barely had time to start to eat when I was called back in to work a huge car accident. Cath was called in thirty minutes after I was. We were edgy to say the least and to top it off we've argued violently over the case. So much that I went back to my apartment when Grissom finally allowed us to go home._

_I was pissed and what was supposed to be a wonderful day had ended up being a wonderful nightmare. Like every other time I'm pissed, I started to clean my apartment. Then luck finally decided to take pity on me. There was a knock on my door. It was Cath. I opened my door and let her in. We stared at each other for two nanoseconds before she kissed me senseless. Against all odds that day was perfect. That moment was magic. The way we made love was beyond description._

"_I was afraid to lose you today," I confessed. "All those misunderstandings, the fights…everything going wrong. It scared me," my voice was a low whisper._

_Cath listened to me. She always had this faculty to know when to speak and when to just listen. When I talk, I get vulnerable and I can't stand this feeling. "You're the first person I've ever stayed with for six months," I told her. She lifted her head from my shoulder and looked at me. "It's sad, I know. People usually give up or I flee. You're the first real relationship I've had and I don't know what I'd do if I lost you. I love you."_

"_You'll never lose me. No matter what happen__s, I'll always love you," she said before kissing me._

_That's when I thought about it. I asked her if she'd get tattooed with me. I wanted us to share something unique. To my surprise, she agreed and one hour later we had matching tattoos our left hipbones._

_We chose a phoenix. It was meant to represent our love: incandescent, everlasting, pure, true. No matter what happens our love would be reborn from its ashes, and burn ever so brightly and strongly. The phoenix is burning, on its back, the letters S and C are entwined in a subtle pattern, and the tail feathers are floating in such way that two of them form the infinity symbol._

_This tattoo represents our love. It's ours._

xxxxx

Bitch!

I hit the tree one more time. I feel like crying so much the hurt is burning my chest. That bitch!

Five minutes ago I got back from my meeting with Liam. And as if things weren't bad enough, I had to confront the only person I can't stand at the moment.

I opened door and was greeted by Ramirez's face which only made me angry. "What the fuck are you doing here? I thought I told you to stay away from her. Did I fail to make that clear to you?"

She sized me up and then walked towards me. When we were shoulder to shoulder, she bent to my ear and whispered, "Nice tattoo by the way," she had a smug smile on her face. As soon as it registered in my head what she was talking about, I felt as if I had been punched in my guts. That was it. I was looking for a reason to wipe that smile off of her face and this was definitely one. She walked past me and I lunged at her. She had barely turned around when I tackled her to the floor.

"Catherine is too smart for you. She's going to figure out this game you're playing with her. Just stay away from her," I growled.

"I told you once already, Cath is a big girl and she can decide who she wants to be around. You don't get to decide that for her," she answered. That's when my fist connected with her jaw. I was seeing red, literally red. I wanted to destroy her pretty little face. Rage was burning me, blinding me. And if it hadn't been for Cath calling my name, I wouldn't have stopped.

I looked at Cath for a moment. Her look was a mix of anger toward me, fear of me and concern for the pathetic excuse of a human being beneath me. I looked down at Ramirez and she was smiling. Not a happy smile, a smile that said 'you lose, I win'. I looked at my fist still in the air and debated on the wisdom of another meeting with Ramirez's jaw. Every fiber of my being said yes, my reasoning came back and I saw that I was becoming the monster I had always sought to avoid being.

I pushed myself off of Ramirez. "I will kill you if you hurt her," I warned her before storming out. I should be worried because I know that where Catherine is concerned, I could actually do it.

Now, here I am resting my forehead against this tree. I'm composed again but my rage is still burning me from inside. I turn around and lean my back against the tree facing the house again. The door opens and the figure of Cath taking care of Ramirez appears. I straighten up and clench my fists. Ramirez walks toward me. Her jaw is swollen and I can't help but smile inwardly. She stops inches from me.

"I know who you are. I can see right through you. Soon, I'll show Catherine that you aren't as innocent as you seem," she tells me with a cocky tone.

I can feel myself shaking so much I want to punch her again. I'm breathing heavily like a bull ready to charge.

"Feel lucky she was there you'd be crawling by now," she says before moving closer. "The first was free. We're not done yet Sidle," she looks at me silently letting me know that she won't get off my back until she gets whatever she want from me. I hold her stare.

"Get the fuck out of my face," I say between my teeth. She steps back and pushes me as she walks away. I look at the front door and see that Catherine is looking at me. She must have watched the entire scene. I go inside not sparing a glance in her direction. I walk into the kitchen and put my bleeding and swollen hand under the cold water.

"What the hell has gotten into you?" she spits as she slams the door. Even though my back is facing her, I can feel her eyes full of fury trying to burn holes on my back.

What the hell has gotten into me? Probably the fact that the woman I love slept with someone else. Or maybe it's the fact that I have to witness her replacing me so easily. Or better yet, it must be the fact that of all people she could have decided to move on with she chose the one woman on Earth whose head I want to pulverize against a wall.

I turn the tap off and turn around. I don't know what I feel right for Cath now – hurt, disgust, anger, maybe all. "Next time you want to fuck her, do it somewhere else," I say harshly.

"Excuse me?" she asks with surprise.

I snort, "I guess you sleeping with her so fast was to be expected. How could you?" my tone is scornful.

Her face turns pale, like I had punched her in the stomach. My comment hurt her badly and for a second I'm happy because at least now she knows what I feel like right now.

"I don't know why I'm surprised you think that. After all, you always thought I was some kind of cheap slut," she seethes.

I think my brain is catching up for the first time with my words. Now there's nothing I'd want more than to take them back. I look away, and try to think. I don't see any reason for Cath to show our tattoo other than her having a pretty intimate moment with that bitch of an agent.

I barely turn my face to look at Cath again when I feel the sting of a violent slap burning my cheek. I hadn't heard Cath move and definitely didn't see that one coming. Cath is in front of me crying silently. "Fuck you, for thinking that I'm that easy," she says before turning around.

"You're still going to deny that something happened?" I say with all my jealousy.

"Think what the fuck ever you want," she answers before heading upstairs.

A part of me wants to believe that there is a rational explanation. Meaning that Ramirez is a bitch and she did everything to push my buttons and that nothing happened. Yet, she knew what her words would do to me.

The other part of me is blinded with jealousy. And right now, it's the dominant part. I need to find a way to shut the thought out of my head. I can't help thinking of Ramirez's hands on Catherine. And to think of her caressing our tattoo makes me want to burn my skin to wash mine off. Ramirez's hands roaming on Catherine's skin, making her shiver, moan and….

I turn to the sink as the bile rises up and let it go. The thought of anyone other than me with Catherine makes me physically ill. I splash some cold water on my face. Cath said nothing happened and I should have known that by myself. I have to believe her. I have to otherwise I'll go crazy.

xxxxx

I've spent the last three hours pacing in my room like a caged animal. I'm sure I've worn a bare spot into the carpet with my pacing. Ramirez's words made me think a lot. What exactly does she know?

The thought that she might be the one to have put my personal files in my drawer becomes more and more possible. Now that could simply be her way to warn me that she has her eyes on me.

I saw Liam earlier and we've all received the same message with a pendulum, which leads me to think that my personal files don't have anything to do with the killer's game. But it confirms that the killer watches our every move. I don't like that.

My phone breaks the silence. I pick it up. "Sidle."

"_There's another body," _Liam's flat voice says.

"Shit, he's working fast," I curse. Liam gives me direction and hangs up.

I go to Cath's door and knock on it after raising and lowering my hand two previous times. I don't get any response and that's no surprise. I walk in nonetheless.

"When I don't say come in, it means you're not welcome in," she spits.

"There's another body," I echo Liam's words.

"Oh and you want me on the scene? How generous of you," she says with sarcasm. I want to apologize for earlier, but my mouth refuses to form any other words so I just step out of the room in silence.

I go down stairs and wait for Catherine. She finally comes down, ready for the action. I'm about to open the door for her when a strange feeling invades me. I think I'm having an out of body experience because I can see me move like I was watching somebody else. I see myself pinning her against the door and kissing her senseless. She responds at first before pushing me away. We're both breathing heavily. I don't know what possessed me to do that.

I look at her and suddenly I feel my cheek burning vivdly from another collision with Cath's hand. I don't have time to decipher her expression as she pushes me away and all but bolts out of the house. I bang my head against the door, cursing myself for what I just did. I take a few deep breaths and compose myself again.

I finally join her in the car. The drive to the crime scene is silent and tense. We finally arrive to the crime scene. I barely stop the car before Cath jumps out. She grabs her kit out of the trunk and moves to the closest agent to be allowed past the yellow tape.

I follow her closely. I was prepared to find another victim like all the others lying on the floor. But the vision that greets me is surrealistic.

Holy shit.

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**Thanks for reading.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Okay folks, here ya go. Sorry it took so long to update, but it's all SoFrost's fault. Yeah, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.**

**Oh...and Immi...take an extra couple of pills before you read this :-) But not so many that ranting Immi can't come out to leave a review.**

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Chapter 18: Catherine

I stood and watched the interaction between Mac and Sara with a strange curiosity. I had just witnessed the woman I had once intended to spend the rest of my life with attack someone without provocation. The words from her personal files drifted through my mind and I had to remind myself that although she had yet to share that information with me herself, she was not and never would be her parents. And here the two of them stood in the front yard of the house we were set to occupy for an unknown period of time. I don't know what is going on between the two of them, but there's a palpable distrust and hatred between them. I've never seen Sara have such a vehement abhorrence for anyone—not even Ecklie.

When Mac shoved Sara, I almost walked out to break the two of them up, fearing that Sara might resort to more physical violence. Luckily, Mac kept walking and Sara quickly made her way into the house, brushing past me as she did. I take note of her bloodied and swollen hand as she walked into the kitchen.

Unable to contain my anger with Sara any longer, I slam the door shut. "What the hell has gotten into you?" She has her back to me and is running cold water over her fingers and as much as I want to run to her and patch her up, I resist.

She turns the running water off and turns to face me. I've assumed my natural confrontational pose with my arms crossed over my chest and a hip comfortably jutting out to the side. My body language clearly says 'bring it on.'

When she levels her gaze with mine, I see anger, disgust, pain and derision. "Next time you want to fuck her, do it somewhere else." Her voice is even, cold, and harsh. The emotions I saw in her eyes and ones I can even yet put words to weigh on me.

It takes a moment for her words to register with me and I still can't believe that they actually passed her lips. "Excuse me?"

I know that since our breakup I hadn't exactly been Sara's favorite person, but the look in her eyes is something dark and scary. For a moment, I don't see anything but hatred for me. "I guess you sleeping with her so fast was to be expected. How could you?"

She always told me that she didn't hold my past against me. She didn't think any less of me because I had been a stripper or because I had a string of short-lived relationships. Well, not so much relationships as quick fucks. And here she is….I don't know what she's doing. She's accusing me of sleeping with Agent Ramirez. And I have no clue what put that idea in her head. But two can play at being bitchy.

"I don't know why I'm surprised you think that. After all, you always thought I was some kind of cheap slut." I'm hurt that she could even think that I'd so easily fall into bed with anyone. And I'm angry that she thinks she has any right to tell me who I can sleep with. I'm annoyed by the fact that she's judging me.

When she looks away from me for a second, my mind is made up and before I realize what I'm doing, I've slapped her. My hand is stinging from the contact when I open my mouth to speak. "Fuck you for thinking I'm that easy," I say as I turn to leave.

I'm at the foot of the stairs when she says, "You're still going to deny that something happened?" There's something more to her words now—jealousy.

Unconsciously, my hand moves to my hip. "Think what the fuck ever you want," I say to her before heading up the stairs.

After what seems like an eternity, I'm standing in front of the full length mirror in my room naked and looking at my tattoo when Sara knocks on my door. I'd noticed her shadow under the door about five minutes beforehand, but it took her that long to work up the courage to knock on the door. I don't bother inviting her in because I'm not in the mood for another one of her weak-ass apologies.

She opens my door without an invitation and walks in. I look at her reflection in my mirror and speak. "When I don't say come in, it means you're not welcome in."

She's staring at my body and I don't try to cover myself. "There's another body."

I turn to face her and she quickly glances over my body before letting her eyes settle on mine.

"Oh and you want me on the scene? How generous of you," I say as I walk to the closet and try to find something to wear. I was excluded from their last scene and now she wants me at this one. I can't help but wonder why she wants me there. Does she want me there to help process the scene or does she want me there so that she can keep an eye on me--and Mac?

I can sense Sara's hesitance to leave and can feel her eyes traveling over the curves of my body. Finally, the door clicks as she heads downstairs to wait on me.

As I'm pulling my clothes on I inwardly cringe at having allowed myself to be eye-candy for Sara. But at the same time, she deserved it. She all but called me a cheap whore and implied that I had slept with Agent Ramirez. Why shouldn't I remind her of what she had and was so willing to give up?

I make my way down stairs and Sara is standing by the door waiting on me. Before I can open the door and head toward the car, she pins me to the door and kisses me. At first, I respond for so many reasons—because it feels good—because it's Sara—because it's familiar. And then, it just feels foreign, surreal and unnatural, so I push her away. Of its own volition, my hand connects solidly with her cheek for the second time today.

I'm sitting the car a few minutes later when she finally joins me. Without so much as looking in my direction, she starts the car and we head towards the crime scene. I relax into the seat and turn my head slightly to watch her. Her cheek is bright red and I can clearly distinguish each finger that left its mark on her fair cheek. A part of me wants to reach out and touch her gently, to make up for having been so rough with her. But I can't and even if I could, I know she won't let me. How we ever got to this point is beyond me. I shift in my seat to look out the window to my side and quickly get lost in our past as the present streaks by my face.

XXXX

"_Okay, according to Mia, there were two donors in the DNA sample we brought her. The only problem is that neither of them is our victim, Marcia Keebler," I said as I looked over the paperwork in front of me._

_Sara had one hand on the back of my chair and another propped up on the table. She was leaning over me and looking at the DNA results that were in my hands. Her proximity didn't bother me in the least and was quite a change from how I would have reacted to her being so close only months ago. _

"_Both of our DNA donors are XX, meaning that our killer is most likely a woman," I put the report down and brought the crime scene photos closer. "Look at the way she's posed on the bed. Her hands are loosely bound by scarves to the headboard and her feet to the footboard. What if this was some sort of lover's quarrel? What if her girlfriend came home early and found her in bed with someone else? The new woman fled and the girlfriend went psycho." I took my glasses off and set them on the table in front of me and continued, "What do you think?"_

_Just as I turned to face her, I felt the softest brush of her lips against mine and I froze. I didn't respond. Sara had just kissed me. We had already been out on two dates and had done no more than hold hands at the movies. Not that a kiss with her hadn't crossed my mind, it had. I just hadn't expected it. _

_I had my eyes closed and felt her lips leave mine and the breath I had been holding was expelled. When I opened them, she was gone. I barely had time to jump out of my seat and head towards the door when I saw her quickly retreating figure disappear out a side door that the smokers in the lab used._

_I took a deep breath, straightened my clothes and walked uneasily toward the door. As I stepped out into the desert night, Sara quickly turned to face me. _

"_Sara, about …." _

_  
Sara put her hands up to cut me off. "Cath, that kiss…I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done…"_

_Before I realized what I was doing, I had pushed her against the brick wall of the building and silenced her with a kiss of my own. She was having a hard time deciding where she wanted to put her hands on me. At first they were on my hips. Then they were on my waist. Then they were on either side of my face. Mine were on her shoulders and firmly holding her against the wall. _

_As I sucked her bottom lip into my mouth, I heard a noise but was unable to discern whether that moan had come from me or her. Either way, it spurred me on to deepen the kiss. I met no resistance when I slipped my tongue into her mouth and rubbed it along hers. It was only when I felt Sara's knees beginning to give out that I broke the kiss._

_Leaning my forehead against hers, I spoke quietly. "Don't ever apologize for kissing me again." I leaned back in for another kiss before speaking once more, "And don't ever walk away like that after kissing me."_

XXXX

It seems like forever before we ever arrive at the scene. Sara has barely put the car in park when I jump out and grab my kit out of the back. Forgetting about Sara completely, I approach the nearest agent and walk under the yellow tape.

I'm still standing there taking stock of the scene when Sara walks up beside me. The look on her face says it all. She turns pale before turning away from the scene. Once again, I'm torn. A part of me wants to comfort her and ask if she's okay. Another part of me is still stinging from the things that happened between us earlier. I choose the path of least resistance, take out my camera and begin shooting pictures of the scene.

Our vic is in a grave and appears to have been somewhat dismembered. The body parts are all laid in the grave as if in an attempt to put the victim back together again. On one side of the grave, there's a small door that has obviously been made especially for this scene. It fits perfectly within the grave. Sitting to the side of the grave is a bottle with a printed label that reads 'drink me.' There are two additional objects inside the grave -- a rose, which rests at the foot of the body and a pendulum, which rests at its head.

Sara is kneeling beside the grave just staring at the body when the coroner finally shows up.

"So what do we have here?" she asks.

Sara stands, looks at her like she's the stupidest person ever to grace a crime scene, and says, "Another dead body, you dumbass." Sara walks away, under the tape, and back toward our vehicle.

"You'll have to excuse her," I offer to the coroner. "She took an extra bitch pill this morning."

The coroner laughs at my joke before stooping down to look at the body. "Yeah, this one's dead." She motions to a couple of guys with coroner's jackets who come over and begin the gruesome task of picking up the pieces.

"What do you think happened to the vic," I ask her as I'm still snapping photos.

"It's hard to say for sure until I get her back to the morgue. But, if I had to hazard a guess, I'd say your vic looks to have been dismembered. That's a painful way to go if she was still alive when your killer started. I'll be able to tell you if the dismemberment happened pre or post mortem once I begin the autopsy."

I snap a few more pictures before tagging and bagging the rest of the evidence. It takes about an hour, but I finally finish processing the scene. I grab my kit and evidence bags and head back towards the truck. I don't see Sara at first, but then I hear her.

"Damn it, Adin. I've told you. This is not working out," Sara's voice sounded strained and emotional.

I felt guilty listening to her conversation with her girlfriend, but not guilty enough to step away and give her some privacy. Sara had now lowered her voice and I was straining to hear her.

"Why do you always think it's about her? This is about you and me, Adin. Leave Catherine out of this. She has nothing to do with it." The anger in her voice was growing thicker. The young woman on the other end of the line must not know Sara well enough yet to recognize that at this point, she should walk away for a while and give her time to calm down.

I didn't think I could be more interested in their conversation until I heard Sara say my name.

"Fuck it, Adin. You're not Catherine and I never expected you to be her. No one, except Catherine Willows will ever be Catherine. I was honest with you from the beginning. We were having fun. You agreed to this. You knew what you were getting into with me and I've gone out of my way to make that abundantly clear. So, you decide whether you can deal with this as it is because I'm tired of having this same conversation with you."

And then she closed her phone and slid it into her pocket. She turned around and finally noticed me standing there. Her eyes went wide with fear before she adopted a defensive posture.

"How long have you been standing there?" she asked.

I was about to lie. "I just finished processing the scene and walked up. Where were you? I had to process that whole thing by myself."

She grabbed the kit and evidence bags from me and tossed them in back. "I was busy doing my own thing," she finally said as she closed the back of the truck. "We need to get this stuff to headquarters."

XXXXXX

"Now, what is a beautiful woman like you doing in a place like this," Flash asked as we entered his lab.

Before I could answer him, Sara lit into him. "Is it standard protocol for lab techs to hit on anyone with a pulse? Besides, she's busy doing Ramirez now."

It took a moment for her words to register with my head. And by the time that they had, she had left the lab we were standing in.

"Whoa! Stop the presses! You're sleeping with Agent Ramirez?" Flash asked in a hushed tone.

"I am not sleeping with her. She's just been friendly and with the way Sara is acting, I need all the friends I can get," I admitted.

Flash took me by the arm and led me deeper into the lab. "Look, Catherine, I probably shouldn't tell you this. But," he looked around the lab to make sure we were alone, "there are rumors going around about your friend, Ms. Sidle."

"What kind of rumors?" I couldn't resist asking.

"Just that she knows more about these killings than she's letting on. That's all I've heard."

"And where'd you hear this?"

"He heard it from me," came the voice of….

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**OMG...you're evil...a cliffie??? Blame Immi.**


	19. Chapter 19

Hey here's the update. Thanks for the reviews. Enjoy,

So and Scuby ;)

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Chapter 19: Sara

"Damn it, Adin. I've told you. This is not working out," I repeat forcefully.

I'm having a day from hell and to top it off Adin is calling me. She's been calling me like five times a day. I haven't answered thinking that she'd understand on her own that now is not the time, obviously she hasn't. I'm beyond frustrated now. Adin is smart, but damn she can be so naïve sometimes and it pisses me off. I had the decency to be honest with her from the beginning. I told her that she wouldn't get any more from me than what I was offering. Translation: sex and fun, but no relationship. I was crystal clear. And she agreed to it. Now, she's getting all emotional on me because she thought we were through that stage.

"_Why? It is working babe, whether or not you want to admit it.__ Give us a chance. We are good together, why can't you see that?"_ she pleads with a pain filled voice. I'm running out of patience now and if she doesn't get my point very soon she'll get an earful. _"It's about her, isn't it? It's about this Catherine chick,"_ she says with a scornful tone. Now she's crossed a line.

Us. Us, what the hell is she talking about? How many times will I have to tell her there's no such thing as 'us.' there is 'her' and there is 'me,' but no freaking 'us.' How complicated is that to understand?

"Why do you always think it's about her? This is about you and me, Adin. Leave Catherine out of this. She has nothing to do with it," I clarify, yet again.

"_If it's not about her then what's wrong? I mean…Sara, why are you acting like this? I know what you said__, but I think things are different now. Don't you like me? What am I? A warm body in your bed? I'm sure I can be better than her…"_ she's screaming now. Fuck, I hate being an asshole, but I think that if I hear anymore of this crap, I'll explode.

"Fuck it, Adin. You're not Catherine and I never expected you to be her. No one, except Catherine Willows will ever be Catherine. I was honest with you from the beginning. We were having fun. You agreed to this. You knew what you were getting into with me and I've gone out of my way to make that abundantly clear. So, you decide whether you can deal with this as it is because I'm tired of having this same conversation with you," I say firmly before hanging up on her. For a freaking rocket scientist, she can be incredibly dense sometimes.

Can this day get any worse? No wait, scratch that. At any rate, I'm sure it can. I turn around to get back to work and find Catherine standing there next to me. I can't hide my surprise. My heartbeat increases its pace. Yes, this day can be worse.

"How long have you been standing there?" I ask instantly. I think it's hard enough to have a strained relationship as it is, without having her hearing me having a fight with Adin.

"I just finished processing the scene and walked up. Where were you? I had to process that whole thing by myself," she answers.

I grit my teeth and walk to the truck, I'm so not in the mood to have my head bit off right now. I grab my kit and evidence bags from her and toss them in back. "I was busy doing my own thing," I finally say as I close the back of the truck. "We need to get this stuff to headquarters."

The ride back is just as pleasant as the ride to the scene was.

I can't believe Adin's nerve. To call me and basically accuse me of misleading her. She thought she'd convince me that we can be in love together. But we can't because I'm still in love with Catherine. Loving Catherine is both the best and the worst things that could happen to me. Yes, the worst, because once you fall in love with Catherine you're hooked for life. And lucky me, at the moment I think she'd rather eat glass than be with me.

Why is my life so fucked up?

XXXXXX

"Now, what is a beautiful woman like you doing in a place like this," Greg's long lost twin brother – they have to share some genes – greets Catherine as we enter his lab.

I could have been playful and actually chuckle at his lame attempt at seduction, but I wasn't in the mood. And if there's something I can't take anymore it's anyone so much as thinking about making a move on Cath. "Is it standard protocol for lab techs to hit on anyone with a pulse? Besides, she's busy doing Ramirez now," I add bitterly before making my way out.

I'm halfway through the corridor when someone catches my arm and drags me into an office. I'm about to snap when I realize it's Liam. When we're in the safety of his office, he lets go of me. "Okay, let me get this straight. You do that again and I'll kick you," I say in sheer frustration.

"Seems to be your MO lately," he comes back.

"Excuse me?"

"Do I want to know why there's the impression of your knuckles on Mac's jaw?"

"She had it coming," I seethe. "Lemme guess. She came crying to you?" I snort amused.

"Actually, I connected the dots on my own," he says sweetly.

"What do you want?" I ask seriously and hopefully turning our attention back to the case.

"We identified the vic. Kathy Woods," he says and marks a pause.

"Why do I feel like I know her?"

"Because you do," he says before showing me a picture.

I look at it and gasp. You have to be kidding me. Kathy was Ronald's first girlfriend. It's a picture showing Liam, Aaron and me unfocused. Next to us there's Kathy and Ronald and some people in the background. I can't for the life of me remember where and when this picture was taken. I don't think I was even aware of its existence. "Where'd you get this?" I ask not tearing my eyes from it.

"I received it last night," Aaron's voice says. I turn around, surprised to see him. I hadn't noticed he was there when I came in. "This is bad," he continues. "Whoever is behind this knows us very well. Better than we thought. This isn't the kind of picture that just anyone would have."

"It could be someone from back then. Ronald had a lot of connections. From the looks of it, I'd say this picture was taken during one of our parties," Liam states. "One of two things: either the killer knew someone with this picture or he's the one who took this picture," he adds.

"Great, not only doesn't it narrow the list of suspect, but do I have to remind you that it wasn't the brightest time of our lives? How the hell are we supposed to remember who we met during those parties?" Aaron says aloud what Liam and I were thinking silently.

"Now what?" I ask Liam.

"I don't know."

"This is frustrating!" I exclaim. "We don't have anything to move on, and he's mocking us!"

"He's leaving clues behind. We just don't see them, which is slightly different," Liam explains.

"Maybe we're thinking about the whole thing backwards," Aaron says pensively scrutinizing the picture closely. Liam and I both turn to him with questioning looks. He shows the picture to us. "Ronald's birthday," he simply states. Looking at the spot he's pointing to, we can make a part of the 'happy birthday' banner.

"And that's relevant because…?" Liam enquires.

"That's the first time we met Spencer. It's where everything started," I say feeling my brain cells firing.

"We've been trying to anticipate his moves when all we had to do was to remember our past," Aaron continues.

"More than likely we'll know the victim. If this is his new MO, all we have to do is to find what's the next big step in our relationship or past. Once we find the answer we might actually find the victim. We already know what he's going to do next, he's following Alice's story so that's no surprise," I say feeling a little rush of adrenaline as we finally have something to move on with.

"Where's Spencer?" I ask.

"Assisting with the prelim autopsy. We need to keep a step ahead of the whole team," Liam answers.

"Okay, I should go back home and see if I can find anything to help us or if he left another clue behind," Aaron announces.

"If anything new comes up we'll let you know. Sara, I'll meet you in the conference room. Aaron….just be careful, okay squirt?" Liam says with a little concern before leaving the room.

As Liam leaves the room, I turn to Aaron "Where are the boys?"

"I sent Ruben and Charlie to Dennis and Jane's. Jake is at some friends for now, then he'll join them later," Aaron answers. Of all of us, we never thought he would be the first to be a father. But then again, they didn't plan the first one and then it all went pretty quickly. Fatherhood was the best thing that could have happened to him though.

"Good," I nod. I look at him closely for a minute and frown. "There's something you're not telling me," I say with an accusing tone.

"You're paranoid."

"Aaron," I warn him.

"Oh, give me a break. This situation is putting me on edge. That's all there is to it. Stop mothering me, we both know it's not what you do best," he replies irritably.

"That was low," I growl.

"Leave me alone, okay?" he replies looking at me. We're staring at one another before my cell rings. I look down and find a text message: 'meeting in 5'.

"I gotta go, but we're not done," I say firmly. Then we both head toward the door and head our separate ways.

As I near the conference room, Catherine stops me. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Around," I reply.

"Who is he?" she asks motioning to Aaron's retreating figure.

"Who?"

"The guy that you just left?" she elaborates with a frustrated tone.

"Hell if I know," I dismiss her. "Now excuse me, I have a meeting to attend," I say with a sweet smile passing her by.

xxxxx

"…He's being more confident and faster. At this rate, we can expect the next body in the next 24 hours. He's playing cat and mouse and obviously he's daring us to catch him. He's thorough and knows when and where he can have time to do the job. He's escalating, as well. My opinion is that the next body will be equally mistreated," Ramirez finishes her little show.

"Thank you, Ramirez," Spencer says in a professional tone. He looks at everyone, "Questions? No?" he waits a moment. "Alright, the prelim autopsy revealed that she was dead before being quartered. The COD seems to be the same, but we need a confirmation. She also had a tattoo, the same than the first vic, only it was bent 30° on the left, not that I think it's relevant. Victim's name was Kathy Woods. I need her background story and I need to know if she's connected to one of the previous victims. If everyone knows what they have to do, then go. For those who don't know, come to me. Does anyone have a suggestion before we close this meeting?"

"I do," I say firmly. All the attention shifts to me. "We should look the water spots. The next victim will most likely be drowned."

"And what makes you think that?" Ramirez snorts. I clench my fists slowly. It felt so good to punch her earlier that it shouldn't take me too much for me to find a reason to do it again. "We don't have time for your hunches, Sidle. In case you hadn't noticed it, lives are at stake here. And time is something precious we can't afford."

"He's following _Alice's Adventure in Wonderland_ story. So, in all logic, the next body will be drowned," I make my point.

"He's referring to the story, not following it per se. Did you hear anything I said about him escalating in his degree of violence?" she keeps on talking to me with a superior tone.

"As boring as you were, I did listen to you. He's following a certain blueprint. He's not to break his pattern now," I say firmly.

"Drowning his next vic would be like softening himself. Which I doubt he'll do. Like I said, he's referring to the story, not following it."

"Checking the water points would be a good idea," I say through my teeth.

"Is there something you'd like to share with us?" she asks clearly accusing me of something. I don't answer, just glare at her. "We can't waste 30 men checking water areas for nothing. It will take too long and probably be useless. We need all the hands we have, so unless you have better than a hunch, I suggest we focus on what we have that is actually concrete," she says with a cocky tone.

There's a heavy silence in the room. I think everyone choked on the tension emanating from our confrontation. "If no one has anything to add, I suggest we all get back to work," Spencer breaks the silence. Ramirez smiles at me before getting up and leaving the room followed by the rest of the agents.

Soon Spencer, Liam and I are left alone in the room. I'm still boiling and seriously contemplating rearranging Ramirez's face. "I advise you to pull on Ramirez's leach," I say harshly to Spencer.

"I don't give a damn if she's fucking your friend or not. She's our profiler and her analyses are the best thing we have to move on apart from what we know, so I advise _you_ to behave," he replies.

"What fuckin' ever," I snort before leaving.

xxxxx

I drive home alone, since Catherine wanted to have more time at the lab. I said I'd wait on her but she said that Ramirez would bring her back.

I arrive at the town house twenty minutes later. I'm exhausted and beyond frustrated. I push the key in the lock only to have the door swing open by itself. I know I locked this door before we left earlier today.

I put my kit down and reach for my gun. I push the door open a little more and step in cautiously.

I give the living room a quick look around and don't see anything out of the ordinary. I step in further. I pull back on the safety of my gun, getting ready just in case. I proceed to check all the rooms downstairs. No one is here and nothing appears to have been disturbed.

I go upstairs feeling my heart pounding loudly. I tighten my grip on my gun as I near the floor. I open Cath's door and step into her room. Nothing. I go through all the rooms like this until there's only my room left. I open the door carefully and swing it open. There, on my bed is a Kraft envelope.

I check around before lowering my gun. I take the envelope in hand and open it. There's a sheet of paper. I take it out and read: Boo!

I start to look around again. There's no way it's the only clue left behind. I'm sure there's something somewhere. I holster my gun and go downstairs again. I bring my kit in and close the door.

I start to look around frantically in the little corner, the drawers, everywhere.

I turn everything upside down. The conference room, my room, I go and search in Cath's room. Every time I come back empty handed. I run both of my hands through my hair and groan in frustration. Damn it!

I start to pace like a caged animal, thinking fast. My first reflex was to check the obvious. In my opinion if there was something, it would most likely be visible for either Cath or I to find it, putting me in danger. But I was wrong. I've been thorough and there's no way I could have missed it, if it was in a room in plain view or hidden in a drawer of any kind.

I look at my watch and realize that I've been searching the house for almost two hours now. I have to find it now, or Cath will be home and…okay let's not think about this.

I slap my forehead as if to make the idea coming out. "Think, for goodness' sake Sidle!" I berate myself.

My mind wanders back to the note in the envelope. 'Boo', what does it mean? First that he's been here and playful as he is he knew I would be on my guard and suspect there was someone inside. It was his private way to mock me. But I doubt this is all.

_He's leaving clues behind. We just don't see them, which is slightly different_ Liam's words echo in m head.

He's playful.

He's playful and smart. He knew what my reaction would be. I'd be looking for the clue that he left me. He hides and I seek. I start to remember how Liam, the others and I would play this game. It was more about being 'hot' or 'cold' according to the distance we were from what we were looking for.

I feel a smile tugging at my lips. I go to the kitchen and face the fridge. I open it and find the grocery along with the milk carton. I slam the door shut. I'm about to turn to the microwave and the oven, but decide to go along with my idea. I open the freezer door. "Got ya," I mutter with smug smile. "Hot clue in the coldest place," I add for my own benefit. Somewhere it makes sense, and that's what the whole game is about.

There's another Kraft envelope. I take it, there are the words 'well done' on it. He knew I'd find it. I close the freezer door and open the envelope, revealing its contents.

Holy shit. No no no no….

I run upstairs and start to prepare my backpack in a hurry as I phone Liam. "Pick up, pick up your damn phone!" I grumble.

"_Novacek,"_

"Melissa Warden," I say "She's the next," I elaborate.

"_How do you know?"_

"Liam, bear with me! I need you to look for her address or find her last location!" I order.

"_Are you sure?" _he asks me.

"Damn it Liam! She has to be the next. We don't have the choice here. She's the next to die, period! Now do like I asked and I'll meet you in a few minutes at the usual spot," I say angrily and hang up.

I exit my room only to find myself facing Catherine again. I stop dead in my tracks. "You're going somewhere?" she asks calmly.

"Yes, you have time to invite Ramirez over," I attack her.

"Go fuck yourself Sara," she says before entering her room and slamming the door behind her.

I run downstairs and get in the car. I put my on seatbelt and drive off like a bat out of hell.

Melissa. What not so many people know is that she and I had a little romance of sorts. Officially we were just best friends. Past the appearances though, we were more than this. We were lovers. She's the first girl I ever really liked, not to say love. Love is something I don't believe I knew before Cath. But Melissa was the first woman I ever kissed and made love to. We had a serious, affectionate and tender relationship.

I'm driving like a mad woman but I don't have time to waste. On the passenger seat rests the envelope with the picture. A picture of me and Melissa. I'm sitting against a tree and she is leaning against me, her back on my chest. She's turning her head to me and I'm kissing her, we're both smiling. With Mel, I was smiling most of the time, she succeeded in making my funny side come out – I never knew how, but she did. I recall this moment. We were having our time together far away from people in our secret and secluded spot. Or so I thought. Seeing the picture I know now it wasn't as secluded as I believed. Whoever took the picture stole that moment from us. Clearly the picture was taken from come distance as if someone was stalking us.

I floor the gas pedal. Praying to whatever power that is that we're – that I'm – not too late.

* * *

**Thanks for reading.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: Don't own '****em**

**AN: ****SoFrost**** made me do it.**

Chapter 20: Catherine

Flash took me by the arm and led me deeper into the lab. "Look, Catherine, I probably shouldn't tell you this. But," he looked around the lab to make sure we were alone, "there are rumors going around about your friend, Ms. Sidle."

"What kind of rumors?" I couldn't resist asking.

"Just that she knows more about these killings than she's letting on. That's all I've heard."

"And where'd you hear this?"

"He heard it from me," came the voice of an unfamiliar man who entered the lab.

"Flash, would you excuse us please? I think Ms. Willows and I need a few minutes alone," he said to the nervous lab tech who turned to leave. "Oh, and Flash?"

"Yes sir?" the suddenly meek young man froze and asked.

"I think we've had this discussion about harassing ladies in the lab and about gossiping. Let's keep your area of specialty limited to chemical analysis."

With a quick bob of the head, Flash made his exit.

I turned my attention to the man in front of me. "It's obvious you know who I am. Why don't we start with who you are and then you can tell me why you're telling your people that Sara is involved in these killings." The rebuke in my voice was clear and unwavering.

"As you wish," he said with a tone that was all business. "I'm Nathan Davis. I'm the Director for this field office and in charge of this investigation."

"I thought that Agents Hackers and Novacek were in charge of this investigation," I stated, certain that my confusion was written all over my face.

He laughed, "Well, those two men are under me. They work for me. They're heading up the investigation, but ultimately, I'm in charge, Ms. Willows. Now, as for your friend Ms. Sidle," he sighed heavily. "Here, have a seat," he motioned to one of the stools in the lab and sat down on one opposite it.

I just stood there with my arms crossed. "I prefer to stand."

"As you wish. Several things have come to light in the last few months, Ms. Willows. We've been able to establish that these recent murders all have one person in common—Sara Sidle."

He sat mute for a moment to allow me to take in what he was saying. I softened my stance a bit. "So you're saying that every victim knew Sara? She would've said something if that was the case."

"Are you sure about that, Ms. Willows?" he raised an eyebrow as he spoke. I immediately knew what he was insinuating.

"Wait a minute. You actually think that Sara had something to do with these murders, don't you?" I was in his face and my anger was bubbling.

"I'd be less than honest if I said that the thought hadn't crossed my mind. We've been working this case for a long time. She's the only common element between _every_ victim. When you add that to her checkered past and her unknown whereabouts for several of the murders, she's a suspect."

This was just too much to take in at once. I sat down on the stool he had originally offered me and rubbed the bridge of my nose. I felt a migraine coming on. I hadn't had one of these in months and it figures that Sara would be the source of this one since she was the source of so many of them over the years.

"We're not here to help with the case, are we?" I asked as I looked up at him.

"I'm afraid not. Agents Hackers and Novacek are unaware of the real reason you and Ms. Sidle are here. I wanted to keep a closer eye on her and given her connection to many of the victims, I can't say I was disappointed that you joined her. If she is involved, you're safer here than you are anywhere else."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Standing up and straightening his suit, the Director looked as if he was weighing how much information he could give me and still be in control of the case. "Agent Ramirez is actually assigned to protect you. She's one of the best agents I have. The fact that she's also our profiler helps a bit because by protecting you, she's also getting some additional insight into what makes Ms. Sidle tick."

I practically flew up from the stool I was seated on. "Protect me? Protect me from whom?" As if the wheels had suddenly started to spin, I realized who I was being protected from before he could even postulate an answer. "From Sara? You think I need protection from Sara? We were a couple. We were in a relationship. Where were you when she broke my heart? That was the only protection I ever needed from her." I was reeling from the deluge of information I was being bombarded with by this man.

"I understand that you're upset. But I think if you consider the information I'm trying to share with you, you'll see that Sara Sidle…"

I wasn't about to let him even finish that statement. Careful not to raise my voice more than necessary and alert the entire floor to our conversation, I stepped closer to him. "She would never hurt me. I trust her."

He could do little to hide the smirk that crossed his face. "Trust is a two way street, Ms. Willows. How can you trust someone who obviously doesn't trust you?"

I could no longer contain my anger. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"How well did you know her? Did she trust you enough to tell you about her mother murdering her father? Did she trust you enough to tell you about the foster homes she was bounced around?" I was caught off guard by his statements and his knowledge of these things, but his last question was a hit well below the belt. "Come to think of it, just what did she trust you enough to share with you? Other than your bed, that is?"

And with that last line, he quickly disappeared out the door before I could call him the sorry bastard that I was now certain he was.

I sat back down on the stool and tried to piece together everything he had just revealed to me. I had been asking myself how well I knew Sara since I found those files in her desk drawer. It was one thing for me to question myself. It was something completely different for someone else to question me. Bastard.

After a few more minutes of composing myself, I decided to go and look for Sara. I knew better than to compromise their investigation by telling her the things that Director Davis had shared with me, but I needed some answers.

I exit the lab and walk toward the conference room only to see Sara exiting a room farther down the hall and walking toward the conference room as well. A man exited the room right behind her and left in the opposite direction. I took note of this as I stopped her. "Where the hell have you been?"

She coolly replies, "Around." Evasive. She has been evasive since we were pulled out here to work this case. Well, work this case is actually a misnomer. I should say since we were pulled out here as part of this case.

I follow up with another question, "Who is he?" I motion to the retreating figure of the man I had seen exit the room with her.

"Who?" Ignorant. She's been playing ignorant lately as well.

With frustration clearly evident in my voice I say, "The guy that you just left."

She flashes me a fake smile before saying, "Hell if I know. Now excuse me, I have a meeting to attend."

The meeting in the conference room was, well, explosive. Mac was trying to give an updated profile of the killer and it struck me that some of the people in this room obviously thought that Sara was the killer or that she at least knew who the killer was. Things only got more complicated when she began to insist that they keep an eye on the waterfront areas because she believed that the killer would leave his next victim there. _Dammit Sara, shut up. You're just confirming their suspicions. _

Ramirez was quick to pounce on Sara's comments, doing little other than implying that Sara knew what was going to happen next. After a tense few minutes and no one really saying anything except those two, Spencer hastily ended the meeting.

I get up and follow most of the agents out, but I take note of the fact that Sara stays behind with Hackers and Novacek. I'm leaning against a wall in the hallway still trying to rub the migraine away when I feel a gentle squeeze on my arm.

I turn to the woman who has now taken up her station beside me. "I think we need to talk," she says. Before I have an opportunity to protest or agree, she has her hand on the small of my back and is leading me down the hall.

We're about to enter her office when Sara comes jogging up to us. "You about ready to go, Cath?"

Every part of me wants to say yes and follow her out, but I know that Ramirez wants to talk to me about the very woman standing in front of me. "Not yet, there are a few things I want to go over."

She offers to stick around and wait on me, but I decline. From behind me, Ramirez speaks up, "I'll make sure she gets home safely."

I see the anger and hurt flash across Sara's face. She had been humiliated by Ramirez in the meeting and now, well, now, I was obviously turning to Ramirez for something. She shoved her hands in her pockets as she took off down the hall.

I watched her round a corner before walking into Ramirez's office and shutting the door behind me. I sank into one of the chairs opposite her desk and waited for her to start in about Sara. Instead, her features softened, as did her voice.

"Are you okay?" A look of genuine concern graced her features. "I know that Director Davis spoke with you earlier. It's a lot to take in. I'm supposed to bring you up to speed on everything and talk with you about what we're going to try. But before I do," she stood and moved in front of her desk half sitting on it and taking my hands in hers, "I want you to know how sorry I am that I couldn't come clean with you about all of this. I insisted that you be let in on things from the beginning, but Nathan wouldn't hear of it."

A part of me wanted to lash out at the woman before me. Her primary reason for existence right now was to figure out if Sara was a serial killer. "Sara's not the killer. You're looking in the wrong place." I pulled my hands back from hers.

Clearly understanding what I was saying, she sat back a little on her desk and crossed her arms over her chest. "If …and that's a big IF at this point….you're correct, we'll know soon enough. I've been doing this a long time Catherine—longer than you in fact. The psychological profile fits Sara—perfectly. The fact that she knew EVERY SINGLE VICTIM says a lot, as well. She is the ONLY connection between all of them. And I know that Nathan told you that her whereabouts cannot be accounted for during the times or days leading up to every murder."

"Back up…what do you mean we'll know soon enough?"

It was then that she laid out the plan that she and Director Davis had concocted to send Sara into a rage. Their grand plan to get Sara to act on her homicidal tendencies included me and Ramirez simulating the beginnings of a relationship.

"I won't do it," I stood up and began to pace around the small office. "There is no fucking way I'm doing this." I turned to face her, "How can you expect me to do this? And you expect her to what? Catch us? Hear us? I've done some low things in my life, but this might just take the cake."

I could feel my skin crawling. It wasn't the thought of sleeping with Ramirez or even faking sleeping with her that disgusted me. It was the thought of Sara hearing me or walking in and finding me doing this.

"This will either be the catalyst that sends her over the edge or nothing happens. If nothing happens, that's a good thing, Catherine. It means she's more than likely not the killer. If something does happen, well, it could go either way."

"I need more assurance than that, Mac. We're talking about the woman that…"

"That what? That broke your heart? That has lied to you about nearly everything for as long as you've known her? You really feel some sort of loyalty to that woman?"

On one hand, Mac had crossed a line. On the other, I had already deduced from her end of the conversation with Adin that she had been fucking her. And it's been months since I had sex.

I reached down and grabbed my purse. "I'm ready to go home. We'll give your little plan a shot. But we're not…I'm not actually going to sleep with you."_ What the hell are you thinking, Catherine?_

XXXXX

I led Mac to my room and left her there while I went to find Sara. I heard her nearly screaming at someone from her room.

"Damn it Liam! She has to be the next. We don't have the choice here. She's the next to die, period! Now do like I asked and I'll meet you in a few minutes at the usual spot," she was barking.

_Liam? He knew what was going on?_

Her door swung open and I found myself face to face with her. "You're going somewhere?" I asked calmly.

"Yes, you have time to invite Ramirez over," she huffed.

"Go fuck yourself Sara," I shouted after her. In that instant I made up my mind.

I calmly walked into my room. "Let's run through this once to make sure we know what we're doing."

Mac looked at me questioningly. "Was that Sara who just peeled out of here?"

I started to undress as I walked toward her. "Yep. It sure was."

A predatory grin spread across her face. "Not that I'm complaining Cath, but what good will this do if she's not here?"

"She'll be back," I said as I tossed my shirt on the floor and started undoing my pants. "She's pissed about something and threw some comment about inviting you over," my pants hit the floor. I wrapped my arms around her neck and pulled her down for a kiss, stopping just short of her lips. "I didn't get to tell her that you were already here."

With that, I grabbed Mac's shirt and started fumbling with the buttons, revealing just how out of practice I am. Her hands came up and covered mine before one moved up to cup my cheek. "Catherine, we don't have to do this. You're trying to purge Sara from your system. That's not what this was supposed to be about."

I pushed her back on the bed and climbed atop her. I took her hands in mine and held them firmly against the bed and started to grind against her.

Her breath hitched and she closed her eyes and leaned her head back slightly. I released her hands and started to unbutton her blouse, still grinding against her. Her breathing was growing ragged and I could see the faintest hint of a flush creeping up her neck to her face. As I undid the last button and pulled the shirt from her pants, I moved it to the side and slid my hands up her stomach to cup her breasts through her bra.

Using my hands to hold myself above her, I lowered my mouth and took one of her nipples between my teeth through the materials of her bra, making her buck up against me. I bit down hard on it before moving to the other and repeating the process. I quickly unhooked her bra and slid the cups to the side before running my hands over her breasts again, letting my thumbs barely graze her nipples. I flattened my tongue and wet one nipple before blowing on it and watching it harden. Taking it between my fingers, I took the other between my lips and began to roughly suck on it. Her movements beneath me never stilled, and were, in fact, growing more urgent.

I raked my nails down her ribs before moving them across her stomach to unfasten her pants as I started to kiss and bite my way down. As I was unzipping her pants, I dipped my tongue in her navel, making her moan. I started sliding her pants down her legs, following them with gentle kisses and bites before quickly making my way back up, biting the inside of her thighs harder and harder as I got to where I was so obviously wanted. I continued my way up her body, letting my hand linger between her legs.

I slid one hand behind her head and grabbed her neck, forcibly bringing her mouth to mine. I traced her lips with my tongue before sucking on first her bottom lip and then her top lip. My fingers were slowly moving back and forth across her increasingly damp curls. Just as she parted her lips for my tongue to gain entrance to the warm cavern of her mouth, my fingers slid slowly inside her, causing her to rise off of the bed and moan into my mouth in an almost fluid movement.

Somehow, she managed to move a hand between us and soon set a rhythm of her own, sliding her fingers agonizingly slow up and down over my clit. Her pace was matching that of my fingers. It wasn't long before I felt her tightening around my fingers, which just sped me along so that we practically came at the same time. I collapsed on top of her before rolling off and cuddling up to her side.

I fell asleep cuddled against Mac, her arms wrapped around me. And that's how I woke up a few hours later. Warm…smelling of sex…sated…and starving.

I grabbed a robe and headed downstairs. I was in the kitchen humming "Natural Woman" when I sensed I was no longer alone. I turned around and found myself staring into Sara's tear streaked face. I was about to reach out to her, to ask her what was wrong when I she grabbed my hands and shoved me against the wall.

"Where is she?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"Sara! You're hurting me. Let go!" I was trying to wriggle out of her grasp and keep my voice down. I didn't want to wake Mac and cause Sara more problems.

"Where is she?" her grasp on my wrists tightened.

"Dammit, Sara. This isn't cool. Where is who?"

"Ramirez." Her voice was ice—cold, cutting, and lifeless.

"Sara, I'm warning …" she dropped my wrists and stepped backwards until she slid down against the cabinets.

Her face was buried in her hands and her body was wracked with sobs. "You slept with her?"

I squatted in front of her and lifted her chin to look in her eyes, but she pushed me away, knocking me on my ass.

"You were humming. You only hum after…." another sob shook her body.

I tried once again to wrap my arms around her, and she put her hands up to stop me. I stood up and looked down at her. "Sara you ended our relationship. You've been sleeping with a rocket scientist. I slept with someone else all these months later. What's the difference?" I can't quite cover the hurt in my voice.

With a look I've never seen on her before—perhaps it was desperation—she simply said, "But I never stopped being in love with you." She held my gaze and repeated, "I never stopped. I never will stop."

She stood up and walked out the door. I was left standing there and staring after her. _What ha__ve I__ done?_


	21. Chapter 21

**Here's what you've all been waiting for.Thanks for the reviews, you rock!**

**Enjoy ;)**

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I enter the house after hours of futily search. Melissa wasn't at home, but that didn't mean anything. She could be traveling or just out for the night. We checked the waterfront areas just in case and came back with nothing. One of two things is going on. Either the killer is just playing with me and she's not the next target, or – and I'd rather not think about this option – Ramirez is right and the killer isn't following the book to the letter.

I'm emotionally exhausted. I'm on edge because I know that the killer is using me like a simple pawn, and the bastard might be studying my every move.

I walk toward the kitchen and try to decide what to do. Shall I eat or have something to drink? I sigh in exasperation as I can't even make a simple decision. "Damn it Sidle," I mumble at myself and bury my head at my hands. I turn around and crash on the couch, maybe all I need is some rest. I'm sitting with my arms on my knees and my face hiding in my hands again. A familiar sound reaches my ears and I stop breathing. I must be mistaken or hallucinating. I'm so tired that I think I hear Catherine humming. That must be it. I'm hearing things because of fatigue. But I'm not hallucinating because the sound is slowly getting louder as I get closer to the kitchen. I know this sound. I've heard it countless times before and it only means one thing.

I feel hot tears falling freely down my cheeks. Human beings are creatures of habit and Catherine is certainly no exception. There's only one moment she hums. I know it because I used to be the reason she would do it. I found out that after sexual encounters, Catherine hums. It's a habit. She does it without noticing, just like I sing whenever I'm focused on something. And she only hums a specific song – "Natural Woman."

And if she's humming now, it means…

I used to love this sound. It would put a smile on my lips. But right now, it feels like a punch to my gut. Every cell of my body is resonating in rage, I can't take this sound.

When she realizes she's no longer alone and turns around to face me. I grab her and pin her to the wall. She's surprised, but I don't give her an opportunity to speak. "Where is she?" I ask through gritted teeth.

"Sara! You're hurting me. Let go!" she answers trying to escape my grip, which only make me tighten it. Truth to be told, I want her to feel pain. To feel a tiny taste of what she's inflicting on me.

"Where is she?" I repeat. I can't bring myself to say her name. The name of the bitch who touch my Catherine. The name of the one who put her hands on this skin I possessed so many times before and memorized with my hands and mouth.

"Dammit, Sara. This isn't cool. Where is who?" she plays coy.

"Ramirez." I finally say feeling nauseous. So help me, if I see her right now, even Cath's presence won't be enough to stop me from… let's not go there.

"Sara, I'm warning …" Catherine says in a threatening tone. If it was a physical fight I wanted, I could have it. I drop her wrists and take a step back. Once I feel the cabinet behind me, I slide down against it.

I can't help sobbing hard as I realize that I've lost Catherine for real. My heart feels like it's bleeding in my chest and the fucking pain is unbearable. "You slept with her?" I state more than ask. She squats down in front of me and lifts my chin, but as soon as I feel the contact it burns and I push her away. She falls on her ass and looks at me with surprise. How dare she touch me when she just fucked somebody else? I don't want her pity or any of her lame excuses or to hear her pretend that I'm getting the wrong idea. "You were humming. You only hum after…." I tell her. This is what gave her away, so she can try and deny it but we both know I'm right.

"Sara you ended our relationship. You've been sleeping with a rocket scientist. I slept with someone else all these months later. What's the difference?" she spits at me.

What's the difference? What the fucking difference? I won't deny I'm the one who screwed things up. I won't deny that I slept with Adin, but it is different. "But I never stopped being in love with you." I tell her. I look at her and it seems to come as a surprise to her. "I never stopped. I never will stop," I repeat before walking away and leaving the house once more.

I step out in the front yard, trying to breathe deeply. No matter how hard I try, I feel like I'm choking. I feel dizzy and it's like the whole world is spinning backwards. I take a few more steps, but it's like I was walking on jelly. That or maybe it's my legs which have turned into jelly. Either way I don't feel steady on my feet. And without any warning, I bend over to puke.

I manage to reach the tree and I lean against it closing my eyes tightly. This is not happening. It can't be, right? I'm going to open my eyes and find myself in my bed. I open my eyes and I'm still in the front yard of the house. Fuck.

She fucked Ramirez. No, what's worse is that Ramirez fucked her. I close my eyes once more as my stomach lurches again. Something snaps in me at this realization. I feel empty, now I don't have anything to hold on to. I'm empty except for this love for Catherine, this poison which is now killing me.

I look at the house and start walking toward it but then stop. I can't go back, if I do something bad will happen. I turn to the car, yep that's the only option. I want to be away from here. I want to stop the pain, I don't want to feel anything anymore.

I get in the car and drive away.

xxxxx

"Sidle."

"_He strike__s again. Where the hell are you? We need you here,"_ Spencer barks at me.

"Geez, you've always known how to talk to women," I joke. I'm amazed to see that in my current state I can be that witty.

"_Just get your ass here,"_ he replies. He gives me the directions before hanging up on me.

"Charlie, I have to go," I tell the bartender. I have most of my friends here and the advantage of having a friend who owns a bar is that you don't have to pay to slip into the bliss of oblivion.

"Let me give you a ride," he says.

"I'm fine, thanks." I don't give him time to answer before exiting the bar. I'm parked just in front of it, so it's only a minute before I'm in my car driving away. I see Charlie in the rearview mirror saying something, probably that I shouldn't be driving in my state. I'll never know since I'm already speeding to my scene.

I've never had a drinking problem. I never drank because I needed a drink. My youth with Liam, Spencer and all, wasn't the best time of my life. We were constantly indulging in whatever alcohol and drugs we could get our hands on. Growing up I tried to discipline myself and adopt a clean and sane life. Being a CSI, you sometimes wish you could burn your brain with acid and erase all the atrocities you face every day. I did turn to alcohol for an escape, but as a general rule, I seldom drink.

When I do drink a lot, I wait until I feel this little 'click' telling me that now I don't feel anything anymore, that I'm above everything, that I'm empty and emotionless; this little 'click' that makes me untouchable.

I arrive at my scene and don't bother to park properly. I grab my kit and go under the yellow tape. My first interest is the body lying in front of me.

Melissa.

So we just weren't good enough to prevent this from happening. I'm so far gone with alcohol that even though my brain is receiving this new information, I don't show any physical signs of pain or concern. My first love is lying dead in front of me in a morbid staging and all I can do is blink my eyes with indifference. Melissa is lying near a pool of water. She's dressed like Alice and holding a pendulum in one hand, a bloody rose in the other.

"Where have you been? I've tried calling you for the last hour," Catherine asks me with 'concern'. I just look at her before turning my attention to the body.

I kneel and have a closer look. Melissa was always beautiful, and right now she's just as beautiful as I remember. I can't help but think about the countless times I watched her sleep. I would caress her face and hair, amazed to be with her. I reach a gloved hand toward her face, but stop my motion. She's dead. She's a body in the middle of a crime scene. "Forgive me, love," I mutter. I get up and start to walk away. I just can't do this. She was my lover, and I can't process her like any other body.

I start to focus on doing the perimeter. "What was that about?" Catherine's voice is a bit high, a sign that she's pissed off, like I care. I don't bother turning around and continue my inspection of the perimeter. "So you're going to ignore me now?"

I turn to her and stare at her. I'm anesthetized with alcohol right now, so the agonizing beat of my heart is painless – even if it's just temporary. "What do you want?" I ask flatly.

She starts to argue about some thing or another. I'm not listening, but I can see that she's angry. It's like watching a movie on mute. People move their lips, but no words come out. "What's your problem, Sidle?" she says harshly when she finally finishes.

"Actually, it's you. I'm trying to work and you can't seem stop blabbering about I don't know what."

I start to walk past her, but she grabs my wrist. I look at her and she's frowning at me. I look at her hand and then at her again. "Get your hand off of me," I say in a low tone.

"Are you drunk?"

"Get your hand off of me," I repeat a bit slower.

"Sara, are you crazy? Do you think about the scene?! Do you know how irresponsible this is? Sara, they're after you. They're waiting for you to make a mistake. They think you're behind all of this and now you're giving them ammunition!! Damn it!"

"Oh and you care about me, how sweet," I say with a sweet smile openly mocking her. My smile fades away and this time I make sure she's looking at me so she can see the threat in my eyes. "Get your hand off of me. I wouldn't want your _girlfriend_ to get the wrong idea," I say bitterly as I see the slut Ramirez looking at us from afar. I pull my arm out of her grip and walk away.

I'm taking a two minute time off away from the scene. I'm hidden by trees and bushes so no one can see me, not that anyone would notice I'm missing.

"Admiring your handy work?" Ramirez asks me with a mean voice.

I turn and look at her. I wish she could be off my back, it would keep me from beating the shit out of her. I don't answer her.

"I know you have something to do with all this mess, I'm keeping my eyes on you, Sidle."

"Yeah and your hands in Catherine's pants, I know," I reply.

She snorts and smiles smugly. "She enjoyed the ride," she says.

Before I have time to calm myself I'm taking a swing at her. She avoids my fist and punches me in the guts before giving me a hook in my face. I fall down holding my ribs, damn it hurts.

"I told you not to mess around with me _chica_," she chuckles before walking away.

I should know better than to pick up a fight when I'm not at the top f my game. Once I have y breathing under control again I stand up again with much effort. That bitch will pay for this one. I grit my teeth and try to ignore the pain as I get back on the scene.

Even though I'm pretty sure I'm drunk, I know not to screw up my job. I decide to only do simple thing which don't require too much skill. I'm working slower than usual, but I'm thorough.

"How are you holding up?" Liam asks me. I'm still working on the footprint I found in the mud. I get up and look at him with my head a little tilted.

I consider his question "Melissa is lying dead because of me…I'm just peachy, of course."

"Sorry," he berates himself. He frowns at me. "What happened to your face?" he asks mentioning my fresh wound Ramirez gently provided me with. I don't answer but he keep on scrutinizing me. Liam knows me too well, and if there's one thing I can't do with him, it's hide. "You're gone," he states.

"Really observant, you should consider becoming a CSI," I reply flatly.

"Go home." He orders me calmly, but coldly. I'm about to protest and tell him off when he speaks again. "We're skating on thin ice here. We are the only ones to have each other's back. They're watching us closely, so don't give them any more reasons to question us."

"Who's 'them'?' I ask exasperated.

"They're not stupid, Skim. We might withhold information from them, but they know something is up. Go home, now," he repeats.

I snort and make my way to the car again, escaping his surveillance as he asks some other agent to finish the job.

xxxxx

I barely have the time to park the car in the house driveway when my phone rings. I sigh at the number. "Aaron?" I ask.

"_I need to see you now. It's important... I… just come now okay?"_ he says. I have sobered up a little and I know I can feel distress in his voice. I start the car again and drive away.

The door of Aaron's house is ajar when I arrive. "Squirt?" I call out as I come in, closing the door behind me. I go further into the house looking around for Aaron.

He appears in front of me suddenly and it startles me. "There you are," he says unfocused. "Come with me," he asks before walking away.

I follow him and we head to his office. It's a plain room full of bookshelves, books and a desk. The floor and the walls are covered with wood. Aaron stops in front of me and starts pacing like he was enraged. He's pale and sweaty, I stop him and turn his face to me and look at his eyes. "I'm clean," he says before pacing again.

"Talk to me," I ask.

"He would come to me for favors. I couldn't refuse then. I was high 24/7 and I'd have killed to have my next fix. He paid for everything. In return I was supposed to give him favors and keep it shut," he says fast, mumbling more for himself than me. I don't understand what he's talking about, but I know I won't like what I'm about to discover.

"I was trashed, but not stupid…I kept it quiet, but I didn't do what he wanted me to."

"Aaron, what are you talking about?" I ask softly. Sometimes Aaron is locked in his head and disturbing one of his 'trances' can be dangerous.

"Ron. Ronald would ask me for favors, mostly getting rid of things. One night he came with…." He trails off and then grabs the hammer on his desk and start smashing a spot on his wall. Once he has made a hole of the size of his hand he starts to pull on the boards and peels them off the wall. I was surprised at first, but there was a little case on the wall. Aaron takes out a shirt. No wait correction, a blood stained shirt. Holy fuck.

"I was in need and he had the money for my fix. He came and said I had to get rid of this. I said I would, then he gave me what I needed," Aaron says with desperation.

I take the shirt in my hands and examine it. This is not good, not good at all. "Why didn't you say anything?" I ask him.

"Don't you listen to me?!!" he shouts angrily. "He had me by the balls!! I was fucking dead without him. He had money and I was willing to do anything just to get my next hit! You should know about it!"

"Fuck Aaron this is….damn it!" I swear. Okay, I need to think, hard and fast.

"That's not all," Aaron says. I should be used to it by now, one fucked up situation always hides a lot of shit. "He wasn't alone."

"What do you mean?"

"There was someone bringing him here."

"Who?"

"I don't know."

"Aaron!"

"I don't know okay?! I was fucking high! How many times will I have to tell you this so you understand?!" he spits.

"You waited all these years! Fuck, what were you thinking! And now….didn't you think that it would be relevant for us?!"

"I'm not proud of myself," he whispers.

He's sorry. I'm so mad at him right now. "Melissa is dead. He killed her," I tell him. He looks at me stunned.

"Are you for real?" he asks, but my silence is eloquent enough. He leans against the wall and lets himself slide down it. "Fuck, fuck, fuck…" he says bumping his head on the wall.

"Anything else I should know about?"

"No," his voice is shallow now. "I'm sorry."

Sorry is too little, too late. Even he can figure that out. I'm about to turn and leave when his voice stops me. "I'm sorry I've never been a good brother."

I sigh, "It's not like I've been the greatest sister either," I reply with a little smile. I turn to leave again.

"Don't let her go," he says.

"What?"

"Your friend…Catherine? Is that her name? Well, don't let her go," he repeats. He's my brother and as such he knows what's going on in my life or at least the high and low points.

"Stay out of this," I say through my teeth.

"You fucked things up, yet she's still has your heart, so don't let her go. I know I've never given you anything but trouble, only this time it's a good advice. Don't let her go," he says firmly.

I don't reply. I don't want to think nor talk about Catherine now. I just make my way out without another glance. When I reach the door I turn around again and go back to Aaron. He gives me a questioning look, "Squirt, you're my bro and I love you. Don't you ever doubt that," I state.

"I love you too, Skim," he says with a genuine look of love. I go to him and kiss his forehead, then leave for good.

Aaron and I never had the greatest relationship. We're more like friends than brother and sister, but it's a fact that we have the same blood in our veins.

xxxxx

"Flash?" I say as I lean on the threshold of his lab.

"Oh I believe a beautiful woman called me. What can I do for you my lady?"

"I was wondering if your nickname was only a contraction of your names or if it really meant something," I say nonchalantly.

"I'm fast and good," he answers.

"I'll be judge of that," I challenge him. "I need you to analyze this," I say handing him the shirt. "Do it fast and be thorough. And when you're done, you only page me. Me and me only, got it?" I tell him firmly, letting him know that I won't be messed around with.

He gulps, "I got it. I'm on it."

"Keep it on the down low or you'll have to deal with me," I threaten. He just nods and starts to process the shirt. Well, we might have our first real physical evidence.

I just hope it'll be enough to catch the bastard before he strikes again.

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**Thanks for reading.**


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22: Catherine**

**A/N: I hope I've redeemed myself a bit with this chapter—since the last one I wrote seemed to outrage every single one of you (especially Immi--ya know we love ya) .**

Why did that woman have this ability to make me feel like shit when I've really done nothing wrong? She had moved on months ago, and I'd never once given her a hard time about it. And since we've been out here, she's been acting the part of a jealous lover.

I'm rubbing my wrists and replaying her words in my head. _But I never stopped being in love with you. I never stopped. I never will stop._

She's still in love with me. I don't know that I'd ever admit it to her, but I'm still in love with her as well. That's why I never let anyone else touch me—until tonight. God, I am such an ass. I'm not even an ass. I'm a fly on a speck of shit on a dirty, hairy ass.

I hear a phone ringing and thinking it might be mine, I quickly run up the stairs. I open the door and find Mac sitting up in bed talking quietly into her phone. She closes her phone just as I enter. She jumps up and starts dressing.

"Going somewhere?" I ask nonchalantly.

"Yeah, you are, too. They just found another body. Sidle make it back yet?"

I look down at my wrists and before I can respond, Mac is at my side. "What happened?" she asks as she takes my hand in hers and looks over my bruises. "She did this, didn't she?" she asks with a tenderness that was so lacking in the hands that left the marks on my flesh. "Are you okay?"

"I need to take a quick shower. Our DB isn't going anywhere. It'll only take me five minutes and then I'll be ready," I said as I grabbed some clothes and ducked into the bathroom. I needed to wash Ramirez and Sara off of me. They'd both left a mark on me this evening that I'd rather forget and hopefully can wash away with a quick shower.

True to my word, I'm downstairs five minutes later. Mac is in the kitchen looking through the fridge. "Hey, will you grab me a bottle of water. I have one already open." I ask her as I pull my jacket on.

"Sure," she says as she pulls it out and walks toward me.

"Couldn't find what you were looking for?" I ask as she hands me my water.

"Nah. Nothing caught my eye. I'm more a fruit juice kind of girl. You two seem to only have milk, water and beer," Mac responds.

My head spins in her direction as soon as she says 'beer.' I look at her for a steady moment before she asks, "What?"

"You said there's beer in the fridge."

"Yeah. What's the problem?" Mac wants to know.

I'm not in the mood to explain Sara's 'me problem' to her so I avoid answering and walk to the kitchen. I open the refrigerator and sure enough, behind most of the food that we'll never eat, there's a six-pack of beer. Something about this doesn't seem quite right, but I'm not able to put my finger on it just yet. I close the refrigerator and go back to the living room.

"Ready?" I ask Mac as I hold the door open for her.

On the way to the scene I try calling Sara several times. And each time, I only get her voice mail. "I'm worried about Sara," I tell Mac as we pull up at the scene.

"I wouldn't be too worried about her. She's a big girl. Besides," she says as she points to my wrists, "she wasn't too worried about you when she left those marks."

Instinctively, my fingers rub over the bruises on my wrists. "She was angry and hurt. Besides, this is nothing compared to…," I smile and blush as a memory of one of our more intense sexual encounters flashes through my mind. "Like I said, this is nothing. It's nothing to worry about. Sara's not going to hurt me. And the sooner you and the people you work for realize that, the sooner you can start looking for the real killer instead of wasting your time looking at her."

I get out of the car and slam the door. Soon, all thoughts of Mac and Sara disappear as I begin to work the scene in the methodical manner I've developed over the years as a CSI. I'm absorbed in my work, but not so absorbed that I don't notice when Sara finally arrives at the scene. Actually, it wasn't that I noticed her arrival as much as I noticed the truck that pulled up haphazardly and the driver that hit the brakes at the last moment.

She walks right by me and heads straight to the body. I leave my kit and walk to her. She's kneeling by the body and doesn't even notice me approach her.

"Where have you been? I've been trying to call you for the last hour?" I ask as gently as I can, trying to mask the frustration in my voice.

She looks up at me before turning her attention back to the victim. I continue to stand there, looking down at her and the body. She mutters something. I'm not sure, but I swear she said, "Forgive me, love."

She walks toward the perimeter and I see her sway slightly. She's drunk. I know she is. I stomp in her direction, speaking a bit too loudly before I ever reach her. "What was that about?" She continues to walk the perimeter and doesn't pay me any attention. "So you're going to ignore me now?"

She turns and faces me, narrowing her eyes before flatly asking, "What do you want?"

"What do I want? I want you to start acting like a fucking responsible adult. Ever since this case popped up, you've been anyone but the Sara Sidle I know. You got in a fight with an FBI agent. You're barely around and when you are, you're hostile. You show up an hour late to this scene. And what was that back there? What you said to the victim as you stood up? Did you know her?" Sara just looks at me like we've never met—like we've never spoken—like we've never made love. More bitterly than I should, I finally ask, "What's your problem, Sidle?"

She straightens her back and focuses her glare on me. "Actually, it's you. I'm trying to work and you can't seem stop blabbering about I don't know what."

She obviously didn't hear most of what I said to her. She starts to walk past me and something in me snaps. I reach out and grab her wrist. Her eyes travel down to my hand on her wrist and then back to me. "Get your hand off of me," she warns.

She doesn't scare me—never has, never will. So I take her warning lightly. I hold her gaze and she sways a bit. "Are you drunk?"

In an even lower tone she repeats, "Get your hand off of me."

She doesn't even bother to deny my accusation. I don't know what pisses me off more—the fact that Sara is drunk or the fact that she showed up at a scene drunk. I tighten my grip on her, digging my nails into her flesh. "Sara, are you crazy? Do you think about the scene?! Do you know how irresponsible this is? Sara, they're after you. They're waiting for you to make a mistake. They think you're behind all of this and now you're giving them ammunition!! Damn it!"

She smiles at me and says, "Oh and you care about me, how sweet." Sara's smile quickly fades and her eyes go from the warm chocolate color I used to get so lost in, to this dark, angry, vacant black color. "Get your hand off of me. I wouldn't want your _girlfriend_ to get the wrong idea," she looks over to where Mac is talking to some other agents. She frees herself from my grasp and skulks off. I don't even notice where she disappears to because I'm watching the coroner collect the victim's body.

After collecting evidence from the scene for nearly two hours, I was exhausted. I was sitting on the bumper of a nearby truck when Mac came walking up to me.

"You look like you could use this," she said as she handed me the bottle of water I had asked her to grab for me earlier.

I took the bottle from her hand and immediately sprang off of the bumper. "What happened to your hand?" I asked as I took it in my free hand and gingerly touched the back of her knuckles.

"Nothing. It's so damn wet out here. I slipped over there and used my hand to break my fall."

I looked at her suspiciously, but had nothing to back up what my gut was telling me. I sat back down on the bumper of the car and guzzled my water.

"I guess Ms. Sidle was right about the next victim showing up near the water. Will you believe now that she knows more than she's letting on about these murders?" Mac asked as she assumed a defensive position.

"Uh, no, I won't even entertain that thought. And you know, it just proves what she said about the killer sticking to the story. A fact, might I add, that you marginalized." I really didn't like that people were eager to throw Sara under the bus. I know her better than anyone here, and I can't even begin to fathom that she might have something to do with these deaths—even if I am starting to realize that I didn't know her as well as I previously thought.

Mac knelt down in front of me and put her hands on my knees. "Cath, don't you think you're being a little too protective of her? I mean, look at what she did to you," she said as she took one of my hands in hers and turned my wrist over to remind me. "You have to know that she's capable of taking someone's life. We all know that your environment shapes who you are. Look at the environment she was brought up in. If that wasn't enough to make her…"

"What about the environment she was brought up in?" I stood up and immediately felt nauseous. "Did you…" I had to pause because the urge to vomit was greatly overcoming me. I closed my eyes and tried to calm my heaving stomach. "You put those files there for me to find, didn't you?"

Mac moved toward me, but I put my hand up to stop her. "Did you? Did you put her files there for me to find?"

"Cath, babe, I don't know what you're talking about. What files?" Mac had a serious expression on her face that I couldn't read. Not that it would help much, the woman was trained to read people herself. It would stand to reason that she was aware of every trick in the book to use to deceive me.

I quickly bolt past her and beyond the yellow tape, falling to my knees and puking. I'm trying to hold my hair back and throw up, when I feel a hand on my back. It's hard to bristle under someone's touch and heave at the same time, but I manage to do just that.

"You're sick—again," Ramirez says.

I force myself to my feet and turn to her. "Sick? You think? I'm puking my guts up and all you can say is 'you're sick again.' Really brilliant there, Ramirez."

I push past her and walk back under the tape. I pick up my water bottle and walk towards my kit. I pull out an evidence bag and drop the bottle in it, sealing it. She's following me like the last puppy at the pound on the day they're set to euthanize whoever is left.

"What are you doing?" she asks me.

I feel like shit and I can't help but be a bit sarcastic. "Well, this is an evidence bag. And this," I point to the bottle of water, "is evidence. It goes in the bag. Try to keep up here. I know it's a lot to take in at once. I'm going to have this processed. Now, what I mean when I say processed is that…"

"Why are you being so bitchy? I asked you a simple question to which a simple response would have sufficed. Instead, you've turned into some sarcastibitch."

"Look, Agent Ramirez…" I couldn't finish, because she quickly cut me off.

She stepped into my personal space and lifted my chin to look at her. "Agent Ramirez? I don't recall you being so impersonal when you collapsed on me last night after we made love. I mean I thought…"

I took a step back to put some distance between us before speaking. "Whoa! Made love??? Were we in the same room? We—you and me—did not make love. I fucked you. That was all it was. Us fucking. If you've deluded yourself into thinking it was more than that, well, please consider this your reality check. As a matter of fact," I started laughing, "it was a huge mistake. And I'm sure _you_ don't want to hear that, but it was. I am still…"

"…in love with a killer. Which makes me wonder, at what point do we start to look at you as her accomplice instead of her ex-lover?" Agent Ramirez had crossed a line when she said that we had made love. And to insinuate that I was going to be dragged down along with Sara if I didn't play the part of some love-sick fool to her pissed me the fuck off.

I did the only rational thing I could think to do at that moment. I slapped her—a full on bitch slap. I've slapped many people in my lifetime. I can't quite recall taking as much pleasure in the feel of my palm against someone's skin as I took in the stinging pain I felt after making contact with her face.

I turned to walk away as quickly as my weakened state would allow, only to be stopped and jerked back around by Agent Ramirez. "Where do you think you're going?"

I can't believe this woman. "I'm going to look for Sara. I need to go home and she can take me." I jerk free of her grip and walk away.

"They sent the drunk home to keep her from ruining the scene. Guess you'll be walking," Ramirez shouts after me.

XXXX

Two hours later, I'm back at the townhouse—alone. One of the cops on the scene had been kind enough to drive me home. Most of the queasiness seems to have passed. I check the time and then pick up the phone, dialing Greg Sanders.

No hello. No 'Sanders.' No formal greeting. Instead, I hear, "It's about time you called. You've been gone for what, a week, two weeks?"

"Sorry, Greg," I offer. "We've been a little busy chasing a serial killer. It kinda takes time, ya know?"

"Oh, don't give me that. Sara has managed to call me every single day. And from what I hear, you're having a really good time," I could hear the anger in his voice.

"Can it, Greg. I don't know what Sara's been telling you about me and the good time I'm supposedly having, but I can promise you that it's been nothing but hell on my end. And that brings me to the reason for my call."

"Oh, so you only call Greg-O when you need something. I see how it is."

"Seriously, Greg. Please. Just let me explain, okay," I took his silence for permission to continue. "I think someone's been poisoning me."

"What?!?"

"I said I think someone's been poisoning me. I've gotten really sick three times now. And it passes after several hours. Anyway, the latest happened tonight. A bottle of water. After about 15 or so minutes, I was on my hands and knees," I hear him start to giggle as I say that last part. "I was puking, Greg. Now, I'm going to overnight this to you later today. I want you to dust it for prints and run an analysis on the water. I want to know what they're giving me—and who's giving it to me."

"Yeah, sure, Cath. As soon as it gets here, I'll get on it. And I'll rush the results."

"Good. And, Greg, don't tell anyone about this. Well, I guess you can tell Griss. But don't tell Sara. Okay?"

"Fine. By the way, how's she holding up?"

"Holding up? What do you mean, Greg?"

"What? ….Cath….You're…br….ing…up. Ca…l..ter."

And then there was silence. What did he mean by asking me how Sara was holding up?

Suddenly, I remember that there's beer in the refrigerator. I want to get rid of that before Sara gets home—no sense in tempting her. I open the fridge and pull out the pack. Two things suddenly make sense to me. First, this is the wrong brand. Second, these are cans. Sara only drinks from bottles when she does drink. There's no way Sara bought this and put it in the refrigerator. I'm at a loss as to what to do. I could just pour them out. But for some reason, that doesn't feel like the right thing to do. I stand there looking at that six-pack of beer forever, before deciding to put them back in the refrigerator and ask Sara about it whenever she shows up.

As I open the door and go to stick it back on the shelf, I notice a small white envelope. I pull it out before sticking the beer back in the fridge and closing the door. A suspicious, otherwise nondescript white envelop under a six pack of beer that I would never consider touching and that is certainly below even Sara's questionable taste. Somewhere in the back of mind, warning bells are going off. I shouldn't have picked it up. I should be wearing gloves. I totally ignore all of the training I've received and open the flap on the envelope. Inside, there's a single old Polaroid. There's no mistaking that it's a picture of Sara.

I take the picture and make my way to the couch. She's a lot younger in this picture—easily sixteen or seventeen. She's clearly wasted in the picture. What I can't tell is if she's high on something or drunk—or both. I never knew Sara was a party girl. Part of me laughs at the picture in my hand. She looks so carefree and innocent. I move forward on the couch and look harder at the picture. The floor is littered with various beer cans and liquor bottles line the table. I focus on the table and lines of coke are easy to make out, but not nearly as easy as the straw she has in her hand.

I sink backwards into the couch. Time to wait for Sara to get home so I can get to the bottom of this once and for all. We've been dancing around this shit since we got to California and frankly, my feet are killing me.

At some point I must've dozed off because I'm startled awake by the sound of a laughing Sara—and the voice of some other woman. I reach over and turn on the lamp beside me. Sara looks at me and then turns to her _guest_, puts her fingers to her lips and says, "Shhhh." Then they both burst into a fit of laughter.

I jump up from the couch and move toward them. "Where the hell have you been? And who the hell is this? Are you drunk again?"

The red head with her looks at me and then at Sara and says, "Is this your mom? You didn't tell me you still lived at home?" They both start laughing again.

I push past Sara and grab the tramp in front of me and none too easily shove her out the front door, slamming it in her face.

"Now what am I supposed to do for entertainment?" Sara asks.

"Entertainment? You call fucking some random stranger you met at a bar entertainment? What the hell has happened to you, Sara?" I reach out to take her hand in mine but she pulls back.

"Don't fucking touch me!" she says as she stumbles backwards. "She had her hands all over you and you were touching her, too. You're," she pauses and is obviously mentally scrolling through her immense vocabulary. "You're tainted. You've been infected by Ramirez." She stumbles toward the couch and sits down. "Ramirez cooties—that's what you've got." She starts to laugh at her own joke.

"Do you even hear yourself? Dammit, sometimes I don't know what I ever saw in you," tears welling up in my eyes, I turn my back to her.

I don't hear her get up, instead, I feel her arms slip around my waist. I allow myself to relax into her touch. She reaches up and moves my hair to the side and starts to kiss my neck while her other hand moves under my shirt and across my stomach. _Damn, this woman knows every single one of my hot spots. _Then she moves to my earlobe, sucking on it gently before whispering, "What did you see in me, Catherine?"

I turn around in her arms and bring my hands up to cup her face. I look into her eyes and I want to lose myself in them. But I can't, not now. In a tone that borders on angry, I firmly say, "I saw my future in you, Sara. I saw my happiness. I saw an end to the loneliness." She bends down to kiss me, and I catch the smell of beer on her breath. I push her away from me and take several steps backward, putting distance between us.

Too much is happening that I can't wrap my head around. I fucked Ramriez. Sara tells me that she's still in love with me. I'm sure someone is poisoning me. This case is going nowhere. And then I find that picture of Sara when she was obviously still in high school. I can't focus. I can't deal with trying to figure all of that out and with Sara's drunken advances at the same time.

"I found something I need to show you," I say to her as I move toward the couch to retrieve the photo. "I found beer in the refrigerator and I was going to pour it out, but this was under it. It's a photo of you. How the hell would this have made its way into our refrigerator?" I hold out the photo and show it to her.

"Damn, another one," she says as she snatches it from my hand.

"Another one? What the hell do you mean another one?" My eyebrows are in full-tilt questioning mode. "You found another photo—in this house—and you didn't tell me? Someone has been in here—without us knowing—and you didn't tell me? Dammit Sara, you've left me here alone! What if…" I don't even finish my thought.

I walk up to her and shove her in the chest with both hands. In her already drunken state, she falls flat on her ass. She looks up at me with this shit-eating grin she wears sometimes. "You know, one night with an FBI agent and you're suddenly a top? Or have you been taking private lessons from Lady Heather?" She tries rather unsuccessfully a couple of times to get to her feet.

"You put us in danger, Sara. They were right," I laugh at the irony of the situation. "Ramirez and Davis and the rest of them were right. You do know more than you're letting on. What else is there? What else have you been hiding?"

Sara just continues to sit there on her ass staring at the photo in her hands.

"Fuck it. I'll find out what you've been hiding," I turn and run up the stairs.

I swing Sara's bedroom door open and quickly shut it and lock it. I start to pull out every drawer on her dresser and dump their contents on the floor. All I find are her clothes. I move to the bed and easily slide the mattress off. Nothing there either. I can hear Sara banging on the door, but I ignore her.

Then she starts shouting. "Do you want me to go through your things?"

I laugh before responding. "Go ahead. I don't have anything to hide."

I look around the room. The only thing I haven't gone through yet is the desk. I yank each drawer out and pour the contents onto the floor. There's nothing here that I hadn't already seen on my previous snooping quest. I pick up one of the drawers and throw it across the room. When it connects with the wall, pictures fall out of it. I crawl to it. The drawer had a false bottom. _Fuck._ I pick up the pictures and crawl back to the remaining drawers. I carefully go over each of them looking for more hidden areas, but don't find any. I run my hands over the desk, hoping that there's something I've missed. I find an upper panel on the desk that slides aside and find several papers.

Just as I'm pulling them out, Sara begins to kick the door. She's still drunk, so I'm hoping that her efforts will be futile. I gather the pictures and papers and start to look through them. I hear her foot connect with the door several more times, followed by lots of cursing. I walk to the door and open it just as she was about to run into it with her shoulder. I have to try not to laugh as she runs into the room and quickly stumbles over the mess I've made. This is the second time tonight that I've seen her on her ass.

I stand over her, and place a foot on her chest to hold her down. I drop the evidence on her and say, "You better have one good fucking explanation for this, Sidle."


	23. Chapter 23

**Hey everyone! Thanks for your reviews, you rock. Here's chap 23.**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

* * *

**Chapter 23: Sara**

"You're something," says the young red head I'm holding around the waist.

I lean on her and kiss her neck before sucking on it. "You haven't seen anything yet babe," I say smugly with a husky voice. Her skin tastes and smells wrong, the pitch of her voice is too high, her eyes are green and her hair is red. I'm not drunk enough not to notice the differences between her and the one she's a substitute for.

I'm not that drunk actually. I had one more beer after leaving Flash at the lab. I picked a bar, and ten minutes later I was sweet talking what's her name here. She's void of any interests; she giggles at everything she says or to punctuate everything I say, she has strictly nothing to say; lucky me in the great scheme of my night the plans I have for her don't require a degree in philosophy – I think I should mention that she is almost sober. The only drink she had was the one I graciously offered her.

So, as I was saying, I'm not drunk, but I act like it. You know how acting stupid actually makes you stupid? Well, it's the same here. I need to be conscious, so I can imagine myself in the arms of the one I want, in the arms of Cath. And I'll need a lot of effort from my imagination because the woman next to me is really a pale and tasteless imitation.

As we make it inside the townhouse the lamp turns on, I take notice of Catherine, then I turn to my 'date.' With a finger on my lips, I shush her. We both laugh, Catherine walks to us and looks at me angrily "Where the hell have you been? And who the hell is this? Are you drunk again?" she shoots her question like an automatic gun.

Tonie, or whatever her name is, looks at Catherine then at me. I think I mentioned already that she wasn't the brightest girl on Earth and you can see that her brain is actually trying to find something to say. "Is this your mom? You didn't tell me you still lived at home?" she asks. I can't help laughing, I must admit this one was good.

Catherine doesn't take the joke well though because without a word, she grabs Tonie or whatever and shoves her out of the house without a word literally slamming the door on her. I smile inwardly, I've always loved it when Catherine is commanding, and right now is no exception. I'm a bit crushed though because now my plans are ruined. I needed a warm body to sweat the image of Catherine fucking someone else out of my brain. Well, it's a fucked up way to think, but in my defense I'll just say this: shut up.

"Now what am I supposed to do for entertainment?" I ask with a little pout. She already had her fun, now I want mine.

"Entertainment? You call fucking some random stranger you met at a bar entertainment? What the hell has happened to you, Sara?" she asks surprised before reaching for my hand, but I jerk away.

Oh please, now she's patronizing me about fucking random strangers? I certainly wouldn't call Ramirez a long-time friend. And just thinking that she touched that bitch makes me angry and sick. "Don't fucking touch me!" I stay stumbling a bit backward. "She had her hands all over you and you were touching her, too. You're," I start and then think about my next word. "You're tainted. You've been infected by Ramirez." I go to the couch and crash down. "Ramirez cooties—that's what you've got." I joke and laugh at this. I know the exact effect of my words; playing drunk while saying those makes it even more fun because Catherine's frustration and hurt is priceless. I'm in a destructive mood.

"Do you even hear yourself? Dammit, sometimes I don't know what I ever saw in you," she says with hurt before turning away. My barb hit home and I'm proud about that. I'm sorry to disappoint anyone who thought that I was always gentle, caring, and thoughtful, I actually enjoy being a bitch sometimes and the fact that I'm good at it only adds to the fun. I'm human yes, as hard as it is to believe.

I'm not in the mood to have an emotional talk right now. I'm drunk and horny, and right now I know what I see in her: what I desire the most. I get up and walk to her silently. I smoothly put my arms around her waist. Old habits die hard because she instantly relaxes under my touch. I push her hair off her neck and find the right spot to land my lips on her skin. I nibble on her neck and sneak one hand under her top, caressing her stomach expertly, I can feel her weakening under my touch. I move my lips to her earlobe and suck on it before repeating her question "What did you see in me, Cath?" my voice is husky and low. She wants me, I know it and I use this knowledge to my advantage.

She turns around in my arms, cups my face and looks at me intently, but seems disappointed at what she sees. "I saw my future in you, Sara. I saw my happiness. I saw an end to the loneliness," she says. Like I said before, I'm in no mood to have an emotional talk, or talk at all right now, so I start to lean in to kiss her. But before I quite reach my target, she pushes me away and steps back. Guess I won't be getting lucky tonight afterall.

She stays silent and still for the moment, composing herself again. "I found something I need to show you," she says before grabbing something from the couch. "I found beer in the refrigerator and I was going to pour it out, but this was under it. It's a photo of you. How the hell would this have made its way into our refrigerator?" she asks as she shows me the picture.

I take the picture from her hand and she's right. It's me high as a kite judging from my appearance and surroundings in it. The sight of it sobers me up a bit. "Damn, another one," my mouth mutters before my brain even has a chance to censure it. I'm not quite sober because it takes me a moment to realize that I shouldn't have said that.

"Another one? What the hell do you mean another one?" she asks me with round eyes and her eye brows almost touching her hair. "You found another photo—in this house—and you didn't tell me? Someone has been in here—without us knowing—and you didn't tell me? Dammit Sara, you've left me here alone! What if…" she starts to go ballistic. Then before I know it she pushes me hard on the chest. I might not be drunk enough not to know what I'm doing, but I am not sober enough to win against gravity. I land painfully on my ass. Fuck, it hurts.

I'm not in the mood for her attitude right now. I'm more concerned about the photo in my hand. I grin at her in a mean way "You know, one night with an FBI agent and you're suddenly a top? Or have you been taking private lessons from Lady Heather?" I tell her.

"You put us in danger, Sara. They were right," she laughs. "Ramirez and Davis and the rest of them were right. You do know more than you're letting on. What else is there? What else have you been hiding?"

I'm not listening to her though. There's something in this picture that disturbs me and I don't know what. My brain is sending me signals that I can't quite decipher in my state, but I feel that I'm close, yet so far away, from an answer.

"Fuck it. I'll find out what you've been hiding," she says before running upstairs. That's when I realize what she might discover. Fuck my brain is too damn slow. I run after her but only face my bedroom door being locked. Damn it!

"Do you want me to go through your things?" I shout. Brilliant Sidle, be as witty as a five year old why don't you?

"Go ahead. I don't have anything to hide," she laughs. She has a point there.

I start to kick the door violently. Hearing the sound of my room being torn apart without knowing what Cath is doing is driving me crazy. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…" I start to grumble. Just when I'm about to force the door with my shoulder, she opens it and I end up stumbling forward and landing on my ass, yet again.

She puts her foot on my chest, keeping me from moving and throws pictures at me before saying, "You better have a good fucking explanation for this, Sidle."

I relax on the floor, close my eyes and sigh. I'm at a dead end, and I'm screwed.

xxxxx

We're sitting in the conference room. Well, I'm sitting and Cath is pacing. She's been reading the files and looking at the pictures for the last 45 minutes. The thing with being caught with your hand in the cookie jar is that denial is no longer an option afterwards.

She throws a picture on the table, a picture of Liam, Aaron and me. Her finger points to Aaron. "He was the one at the lab earlier. When I asked you who he was you pretended not to know him," she snorts with disgust.

"It's Aaron, my baby brother," I say flatly.

"Your brother?" she gasps. "You have a brother?"

"Brothers," I stress the plural here. "Denis, Jude and Aaron," I state.

"Even better…" she seems ready to cry. "Nine months. I gave you nine months of my life and I didn't know this simple fact." She laughs bitterly, "It must have been a hell of a joke for you."

I look at her intently, now I'm the one pissed. "So that's what you think? That we were nothing but a joke for me?"

"Wasn't it though? Nine fucking months and I don't know a single thing about you!" She shakes her head, "You know what? Never mind, it didn't matter then and it doesn't matter now. We're over."

She looks at another picture and frowns. "That's the last vic. So you fucked her," she says with scorn. "Now what you said at the scene make sense."

She crossed a line that I don't allow anyone to cross. "Don't you talk about Melissa that way," I say in a threatening tone. "Be mad at me, hate me all the way you want. You do not talk about her like this, ever."

"Whatever."

She reads the files I've been hiding since the beginning. I'm just sitting waiting for her to ask her questions. "I want to know everything about this case, I want to know what I've been dragged into. I want to know how dangerous all of this really is. So you're going to tell me everything," she states more than ask.

"Years a go someone would kill young girls and dress them in reference to Alice. Now someone is doing it again. Either it's the first killer or a copycat. The end," I say.

She looks at me then at the paper in her hands. She starts to throw them at me, one by one. "The end? The end? Why the fuck are you connected to each victim? Why are you receiving those pictures? How long has this been going? 'Death of a teenager, four of his friends helpless to save him' sweet title, now tell me why your face appears in this article? What is this story? Are you involved in those murders? Those are only the first questions you'll answer to, so no it is not the fucking end."

"What do you want from me?" I ask frustrated. I don't want to talk about this. Not now, not ever. Some things are better left unsaid.

"The truth, Sara! My life is at stake here and all because of you. I want to know what's threatening me and what the fuck is going!"

"Trust me, the less you know, the better," I tell her honestly.

"You're asking me to trust you?" she chuckles "Is this a joke? You want me to trust you? I don't know who the hell you are, and I've been taught not to trust strangers. Now give me one good reason not to report you to the authorities, one reason not to give the FBI what they're desperately looking for."

I close my eyes. If I was drunk before the situation has sobered me up quickly. "Fuck it, you don't want to talk by yourself, we'll do this the hard way," she sighs angrily.

She takes an article off the table, reads it quickly and then turns to me, "Let's start with the beginning. This is the oldest paper we have here. From what I gathered until now they had never linked the murders to one another. And the reports of the old cases are incomplete, so question number one. Are you hiding other files somewhere else or are the files naturally incomplete?"

She's cold and business-like. I've always admired her ability to focus on something and the way her mind works. But right now, I know where this is leading us and I'll avoid this path as long as I can. Yeah, because now it's only a matter of time. "Cath, don't do this…"

"First off, you don't 'Cath' me. Then don't you dare tell me what to do or not to do. You weren't so eager to 'protect' me when you failed to mention that someone could get in and out of here at their will, nor were you when you left me here leaving me to face god only knows what," she snaps.

"Believe me…"

She slams her palm violently on the table, "I don't believe you anymore, Sara. I only want to know what I'm dealing with and then I'll decide what to do with your sorry ass. Now answer me. Are there other files around or is everything here?"

"Everything is here."

"Now the article talks about a dead… Ronald Nagaer, care to explain?" she asks sharply. I just shrug. She put the paper in front of me and then points something. "This is Liam and this is you. I need to know what happened before the moment where you two surround a body bag," she says through her teeth.

"I don't know," I answer.

"Think harder."

I sigh "I…look I don't know okay…not really."

"You killed him?"

"No!"

"Liam did it?"

"No! What the hell?"

"You'll have to give me the long version because I'm not convinced right now," she says grinning meanly at me.

"I was high, okay? I was as high as a kite…chances are that I was probably drunk as well."

She snorts. "Another detail about your life you never mentioned. Who would have known? You were a teenage junky. I guess wonders never cease," she chuckles with disgust. I do understand her anger at me right now, but her words hurt nonetheless.

"We were at Ronald's having a private party like we almost always did, getting wasted. I was wandering around the house and I stumbled upon a room. It was like a chamber dedicated to the murders, to the 'Crazy Hatter'. Even in my advanced state I knew something was wrong. Ronald caught me in the room, I asked him what it was. He said he was fascinated by the story and that he just wanted to know how the killer was thinking hence a room full of the details," I explain and then stop.

"He died that night, Sara, I want to know how and why."

"Things got out of hand," I say remembering the night with a partial clarity. "He punched me and started to attack me. I fought back and screamed. The others came and jumped on him to him. There was a fight, screams, confusion and then…"

"Then…" she presses me.

"There was a gun shot and Ron fell, he agonized for minutes and then he died," I say not looking at her. I feel nauseous as I see flashes of that night crossing my mind.

"You let him die? You didn't help him?" Cath asks me with apprehension as if she was begging me not to be who I am.

I look at her with shame, and then look away again. "I was frozen…we all were. I couldn't react. We tried to stop the blood from pouring out of him. I supposed that if we had been clean enough we might have saved him. I watched him draw his last breath."

"Who fired the gun?"

"I don't know…I…"

"You don't know?!" she snaps again.

"I was high damn it!! Do you get that?! I was fucking high!" I bark at her. "It was all a blur. One minute they're fighting and the next Ron is on the floor. When the people asked, we told them what happened. It was an accident," I say. Even after all these years, I'm still not convinced it was an accident. I feel responsible and I am.

"What happened next?"

"There was an investigation. They found the room I stumbled upon and apparently there was evidence of Ronald's involvement in the murders. Case closed," I shrug.

"How come there isn't an article talking about this? How come the files are so thin, and why didn't anybody ever make the connection before?" Catherine asks. The investigator in her is trying to solve a puzzle, the puzzle of my life.

"Ron's family had enough money to keep the story on the downlow. As for the files…things were different then. Once they had a perp, they were happy campers."

"Alright, let's move forward to now. So obviously it wasn't Ronald given the murders we're facing now," she states.

"It could be a copycat," I bear with her.

"Or Ron's accomplice."

"Anyway, whoever is behind all this knows about us, about what happened and he wants us to pay for it," I sigh. I look on the table covered with files and papers. I grab the first envelop I received in Vegas and push it toward Catherine. "I got that one when we were in Vegas. It arrived a day before Liam and Spencer, but I found it when they told me to check my mail. The four of us received the same message. Gathering each part the message was 'it's time to pay'. Then Aaron received this picture," I explain pointing to a photo. "We established the chronology, and this was the first time we met Spencer. This is Kathy Woods, Ron's girlfriend at the time."

"That was a victim. She was the one quartered," Cath says immediately.

"Yeah, then I received this one yesterday," I say showing her the picture of Melissa and I.

"Who was she?" she asks after a long pause. I don't get the chance to answer her as the fax machine comes to life delivering a message. She gets up since she's closer to it and takes the sheet of paper coming out of it. She read it and frowns "You were right. Melissa drowned."

"So he's following the story," I muse.

"Where should we be looking then? You know the story better than I do, so tell me what will happen next."

"Alice gets too big for the rabbit house," I say.

"So we have nothing? Isn't there any evidence you 'forgot' to tell me about?" she asks in an accusatory tone.

I'm about to answer with a no when I remember something. "There's a shirt. I found out earlier that Ron was giving things to Aaron for him to get rid of it; evidences most likely. Aaron being more addicted than any of us, Ron would bribe him with promises of a fix. Aaron kept a shirt though, a bloody shirt. I gave it to Flash to analyze."

She nods and sits down again, going over some files. "Now what?" I ask.

"Now, I'm going to work on this case," she states not looking at me.

"You should go back to Vegas. You're in…."

"Spare me your concerns. You didn't care about what might have happened to me up to this point. I'm going to do my job period," she growls. She looks at me with anger and despise. I don't think that in all the time we've known each other she ever looked at me like that, even when I was way out of line. I sigh and stand up. I think I need some time alone. I'm about to leave the room when she talks once more.

"Who was she?" she repeats her previous question. There's pain in her voice this time.

I don't turn around to answer her. "She was the first," I simply say, with that I retreat to my room.

xxxxx

I'm awakened by the piercing sound of my cell phone ringing. I reach out and answer it. "Sidle," I say groggily.

"_You need to come over."_

I frown and shake my head, "Who's this?"

"_Flash. You need to come over. Not at the lab, my place. It's about your shirt.__ Grab some paper and I'll give you my address,"_ he says succinctly. I write down an address and before I can say anything else, he hangs up on me. What a gentleman.

I sit on my bed and put my head in my hands. Since I've been here, I haven't slept much. The bad side of drowning your pain in alcohol is the eventual return in the surface; you're nauseous; your head seems to be haunted by a marching band and elephant dancing polka to the music; every bit of light is a torture…damn it.

I get up and take a shower. Twenty minutes later, I feel slightly better. On my way downstairs I notice that Catherine isn't in her room. I ponder making myself coffee and can't seem to be able to make up my mind about it. I hear sounds coming from the hall so I walk toward it. I end up in the conference room where Cath is sitting on the floor surrounded by files and pictures. I chuckle at the sight; she's 'making the submarine' as she likes to call it – immersing herself in the case.

"You wanted something?" she asks me coldly. I guess I must be the last person she wants to see right now, that was to be expected.

"I'm leaving," I tell her flatly.

"Where are you going?" her tone is inquisitive, she's blatantly letting me know that she doesn't want me out of her sight.

"To Flash's. He had something to tell me about the shirt I told you about."

"Give me two minutes, I'm coming with you," she states with her 'don't argue with me voice'.

"No you're not," she's about to give me another earful, but I cut her short "Listen the way I handled this evidence isn't right and I don't want you to get your hands dirty here. I'll call you as soon as I know something. I should be back in an hour," I say firmly and leave. Something hits me and I walk back towards her, "Make sure your gun is close to you, okay? Be careful because we never know when and in what shape his the next message will be."

I walk out of the house and make my way to the address Flash gave me. It's a twenty minute drive and it gives me time to evaluate my position. Cath knows everything now and I still don't know if that's a good or a bad thing. I've been a jerk so far, that I know, and I have no excuse for it, but now I feel like I've put her in danger by telling her everything. Let's hope I'm just being paranoid.

I'm impressed by Flash's house. I ring his doorbell and he opens the door almost immediately. "You took a long time. I called you 45 minutes ago," he says hastily.

"Hello to you too, Flash," I answer. I'm hung over and not in the mood for verbal sparring.

"Whatever, come in," he says closing the door behind me. He's nervous about something and looks pale. My gut is telling me that something is wrong.

His house is as impressive inside as it is outside. He leads me downstairs where there should be a basement, but to my surprise there's a well equipped lab. Wow. I wish I had this at home. I whistle. "Impressive! Some of your machines are even better than the ones at the lab," I state in awe.

"Yeah, it's the advantage of having a guilty, yet rich father. Ask for a car, you'll have a Porsche," he dismisses me hastily.

"Why are we here?" I ask, still looking at the items in this private lab.

"When I want to do test off records, I do them here. The lab isn't secure. And I didn't think the shirt you gave me was supposed to be public knowledge. Am I right?" he says with a sharp voice. I hear a distinctive click, the unmistakable sound of a safety being turned off. I turn around slowly and sure , I'm staring down the barrel of a gun. Somehow, I knew my day was going to be shitty. I wasn't too far off.

I raise my hands a in mock surrender. "What's going on here?" I ask calmly.

He chuckles, "I want to know what mess you dragged me into. You know, I knew something wasn't right about you. " He licks his lips, "And the other day when you gave me that shirt, alarm bells went off, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Then it hit me. You gave it to me hand to hand, no evidence bag, no gloves, no nothing."

I smile a bit. The other when I was on my way to the lab I realized that in my drunken state I had made a rookie mistake. I had handled the shirt without gloves, leaving pieces of myself on it. Then I had let Aaron touched it as well. Yet, I needed the results without having to answer any questions. I used Flash. I know it's bad, but he was an easy target. "When you make a mistake, you can cover it up by using someone else to make an even bigger one. For what it's worth, I'm sorry. But I needed you to analyze this shirt and I had to guarantee your silence. I knew that a smart guy like you would notice _his_ mistake and take every precaution not to have your complicity in the matter discovered. I mean no point for you to rat on me when you were caught red handed, too. I'm glad I was right."

"Fuck you," he spits. "You're a bitch!"

"Listen, this case is way beyond you. I'm trying to catch the killer. This evidence is old, and it is our only tangible evidence. We need to know whose blood is on it," I explain him.

"Why should I trust you?"

"Put your gun down and we'll talk," I say taking a step forward.

"Stay where you are," he says. He's shaky and unsure, leading me to believe that he has never had a gun in his hands before.

"Put that thing down before you hurt someone," I say firmly.

He let his arm fall down at his side, but keeps his gun in hand. "Look on the table. Those are the results," he says. I turn my head and feel a hit on my temple. I stumble backwards, but manage to stay up. Little sneaky bitch, he hit me with the butt of the gun. I shake my head and punch him in the jaw. We start to fight and the gun goes off.

"Oh my god, are you hurt?" he asks hastily. I check myself and feel a little pain on my side. I sigh angrily, the bullet graze my skin, it was a close call. I look at Flash with anger and slap him hard. I take his gun, unload it and put it on the table. "This is not a toy you dumbass!"

"I'm sorry, I hadn't loaded it. I don't understand," he says pouting a bit like a five-year-old who's been scold.

"There's always a bullet already in the chamber, you genius," I growl.

He's holding his burning cheek. "Are you going to kill me?" he asks.

I touch my throbbing temple and feel blood, great. Now I have a hang over and a bloody temple. "I'm considering it now," I answer through my teeth.

"I'm requesting for one thing. Make it quick, please?" he says with a brave face.

I sigh in exasperation. "We're on the same side now, dumbass! Fuck it hurts," I swear. "Did you even find something or did you make me come here to play hero?" I ask.

"I found something. So…you're not the killer then?"

"I know it's hard for you to think, but let's try again. If I was the killer, do you think I'd give you evidence to bury me?"

He considers my words, "No."

"Look, we don't have time to waste, so let's see what you got," I say in a sigh.

"Sure. So except from your epithelial cells and mine I found one with seven markers in common with you," he states

"My brother," I answer his silent question.

"Do I want to know?" he asks.

"No you don't."

"Okay. I found two distinct DNA markers so far. The first is female…Mandy…"

"Braxton," I finish for him.

"Yeah," he gives me a look.

"She was one of the first victims of the first Crazy Hatter, supposing the one we're looking for now is a different person."

"Alright, there are two genetic prints. But I can't identify them through CODIS yet because they're incomplete. The stains were all mixed up."

I'm surprised. "You have access to CODIS from here?"

He chuckles, "Let's just say I'm good with computers."

I laugh a little, moving my head, "Wicked."

"So am I as good as this Sanders dude?" he asks me with a cocky smile.

"You're on your way there kid," I chuckle. "How much time do you need to sort the issue here?"

"One day, maybe two, maybe more. I don't know, but not much time," he says back in a working mode.

"Okay. Call me as soon as you get the results."

My phone comes to life. "Sidle."

"_We have another body,"_ Cath informs me.

"Damn, he's working fast," I mutter. "Okay. I'll come by and pick you up," I say before hanging up. "I have to go. You should go back at the lab, you're about to be called anyway."

"We have another body already?"

"Yeah."

"Damn," he says before getting up. "Hey, I'm sorry for shooting you and…you know," he says sheepishly.

I stare at him then hit his forehead with the bottom of my palm. "Guns aren't toys. Remember that," I warn.

"Ouch, yeah I think the advice has entered my head now."

I grin, "Good."

I leave his house and head over to pick Cath up from the house.

* * *

**Thanks for reading**


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer: I don't own 'em….**

**Chapter 24: Catherine**

"Cath?" she shouts as she walked into the house.

"I'm upstairs," I shout down to her. A few seconds later, there's a knock at the door and I say, "Come on in."

I turn around and immediately see the dried blood on her temple. For a split second, I'm frozen in place. And then I realize that Sara's hurt. I quickly move to her.

My hand goes to her temple and she winces as soon as my fingers touch her flesh. "Sara, what happened?"

"I ran into a gun," she answers humorlessly.

I take her hand and lead her into the bathroom and sit her down on the toilet. "I thought you went to see Flash." She winces as I run the wet washcloth over her temple. "What happened?" She closes her eyes and doesn't bother answering my question which only serves to anger me. "Dammit Sara. What happened to you?"

My patience with her is wearing thin. I leave her sitting in the bathroom to go and find my first aid kit. I'm a mother—I never travel without one. When I walk back in, she's managed to pull her jacket off and I notice her shirt is ripped and there's more blood. And I know there's no way the blood from her temple got there.

She looks up at me and says, "Let's make this quick, okay? We need to get to that scene."

I slam the first aid kit down on the sink and open it up. I take out the antiseptic and put some on a cotton ball. None too gently, I wipe at the open wound on her temple. "The fucking scene can wait, Sara. You're more important."

She looks me in the eyes and grabs my hand. "Be nice or I'll do it myself," she warns as she slowly lets my hand go.

I hold her gaze for a second before moving my hand back to her temple. My concern for her far outweighs my anger right now. She didn't have to go alone. If I had been with her when she went to Flash's… "Did Flash do this to you?" One look in her eyes answers my question. "Babe, how did…"

"He hit me with the butt of the gun. It doesn't hurt too bad," she winces as I dab some ointment on it and put a butterfly bandage over it. "Sneaky little bastard snuck up on me and popped me good," she said as her fingers moved over the bandage. "Alright, let's go," she says as she stands up.

"Oh no. We're not done yet. Sit your ass back down," I say to her as I stand squarely in the doorway, blocking her escape route.

"Catherine, I'm fine. We need to get the crime scene. Now get out of the way so I can change and we'll leave," Sara threatened.

"Take your shirt off." A raised eyebrow and a smirk are her only reactions, to which I roll my eyes. "I need to clean up whatever happened there," I motion to her side.

"That's just a scratch," she says as she lifts her shirt over her head.

I move to sit on the toilet and leave her standing so that I'm at eye level with her 'scratch.'

"A scratch? You call this a scratch?" I ask as I dab antiseptic along her side. I put my hands on her hips and pull her closer to me so that I can see the 'scratch' more clearly. "This is not a scratch, Sara! Do you really think I'm that stupid? That I wouldn't be able to tell a 'scratch' from a gunshot?"

"It just grazed me. It's nothing. It barely even hurts," she said as she looked down at me. "We struggled a bit and it went off. The stupid ass didn't even know that the gun was loaded."

Before I realize it, tears were falling down my face. I wipe at my eyes with the back of my hand, but I can't stem the tide. I quickly dab some more ointment on her side and slap a couple of bandages on her before standing up.

"Are you okay?" she asks me as I struggle to contain my emotions.

I can only nod my head.

"Cath, you never cry. Sweetie," she says as she lifts my chin to look at her, "what's wrong?"

No sense in containing my emotions any longer. "You could have been shot! He could have killed you. What then? What would I…." I hung my head and started to cry again.

She places a hand on either side of my face and moves closer to me. Just as she had done the first time we made love, she wipes away my tears with her thumbs. She speaks softly and slowly to me. "He didn't. I'm here. Okay? I'm alright."

I can't help but look into her eyes. She slowly lowers her mouth to mine. Almost hesitatingly slow, she kisses me. It takes a moment for me to realize what is happening. Before my mind can process that Sara is kissing me, my body is reacting and kissing her back. It figures that she'd be the first one to make the first move to fix what's wrong between us. She's always made the first move.

XXXX

"_He didn't deserve you," her usually unemotional voice said from the shadows of the locker room._

"_Excuse me?"_

_Sara stepped closer to me and spoke softly. "I said he didn't deserve you."_

"_Yeah, well, it's what men do. I should know this by now. I've dated enough of them," I said as I closed my locker._

"_Maybe that's part of the problem," she said as she sat down on the bench in front of me. She seemed to study me for a minute before finally asking, "Cath, would you have dinner with me?" _

_How long had it been since I'd been out for a night out with the girls?_

_I smiled down at her. "You know, I think I could use a night out on the town. You wanna see if Wendy, Mia or Sofia wants to join us?" I knew immediately from the look on her face that a night out with the girls hadn't been her intent._

_She stood and moved closer to me. I felt my heart racing as she reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear she and said, "If you'd prefer, we can invite them. I, however, would prefer an evening with just the two of us. You think about it and give me a call." _

_I was still standing there staring at the door she had exited through when Greg walked into the locker room._

"_Cath? Is something wrong?" he asked me._

_Looking at the locker room door, I said, "I think Sara just…just…just asked me out."_

_Grinning from ear to ear he spoke. "Well, it's about damn time."_

_XXXX_

As quickly as it had started, the kiss ends. Sara pulls back from me. Her mouth is agape and her eyes are dark. "Cath….I shouldn't…I'm sor…."

I put my fingers to her lips to silence her and pull out the now ringing phone in my pocket. "Willows…..yeah, I know….we'll be there in a few minutes…we ran into some traffic."

I close my phone and look at her, my fingers still against her lips. "Don't ever apologize for kissing me again. Now go put some clean clothes on so that we can get to that scene."

She grabs her bloody shirt and leaves without speaking a word to me.

Within a few minutes, she returns. "Alright, let's go."

I give her the address as we climb into the truck and we are on our way.

Suddenly, it strikes me as presumptuous that she would climb behind the wheel every time we have to go somewhere. "Why do you always drive?" I ask her. "Every time we need to go somewhere, you jump behind the wheel. You've been doing it since we got here and you do it all the time at home, too."

"Well, I didn't realize it was an issue until now," she says flatly as she slows down and pulls to the side of the road. As soon as the car is in park, she opens her door and gets out. I just sit there and watch her walk around behind the truck and up to my door, which she opens and just stands there. "You can drive and I'll ride."

"Sara, I…"

"What?" she cuts me off.

I hang my head as I realize why it makes sense for her drive while we are in California. "I, uh…"

"What?" she asks with this cocky, knowing grin on her face.

"Dammit, you know I'm not from here. It makes sense for you to drive while we're here because you know your way around," I begrudgingly admit.

The smug smile on her face only grows larger as she shuts the door and skips around the truck to climb back in. As she puts the truck in drive she says, "Any more questions or issues you want to discuss?"

I don't bother answering her, just cross my arms over my chest and look out the window. She reaches across the console in the truck and puts her hand on my thigh. "There, there, now. Don't pout, Cath. We both know what a control freak I am. Even if I didn't know anything about the area and you did, I'd insist on driving just so I'd be in control. This isn't news to you, so why are you making it an issue now?"

My eyes fall on her hand which is still on my thigh. Her attention has gone back to the road, but mine is firmly on her hand. I continue to look at it before covering it with my own, just like I always did when we were together. We continue to ride to the scene as I choose not to answer her last question. Instead, I think I'll share something else.with her

"I think someone has been poisoning me," I say. I feel her hand tighten on my thigh, but I keep it under mine. "I've been sick three times. The first time was at the FBI headquarters that first day. Then I got sick at the house. And the last time was at the most recent crime scene."

Her focus remains on the road, but I know she has heard what I said. This is typical Sara behavior. She is going over all of the evidence in her head. Pretty soon, she'll start asking questions.

"Do you remember what you were doing before you got sick each time? Did you touch something? Eat something? Drink something?" she finally asks.

I smile in spite of myself. "Each incident was precipitated by me drinking something. The first time it was coffee which Liam brought to me. The second time was the milk you gave me. And the last time was a bottle of water from our refrigerator."

"We should send some of the stuff from our refrigerator to Greg to analyze. Just to make sure that nothing else has been poisoned. We also should make sure that you don't eat or drinking anything else that someone hands to you."

"I already sent the water bottle to Greg that I was drinking from at the crime scene. He's going to test it and get back to me with the results," I turn to look at her. "Why does someone want to poison me? But more importantly, who is poisoning me?"

The problem with knowing someone as intimately as I know Sara is that you know when you're being deceived. She pulls her hand from beneath mine and puts it on the steering wheel. I can see the muscles in her face twitching. Without turning to face me, she simply says, "I don't know."

She may want me to believe that she doesn't know, and perhaps she doesn't know for sure. But I'm pretty damn sure she has a good idea. I keep that piece of information to myself, not wanting to void this truce of sorts that we seemed to have recently forged.

A mutual silence falls upon us as we drive the remaining few miles to the crime scene. Once we are there, she puts the truck in park and we both jump out and grab our kits.

The grim look on the faces of many of the officers on the scene has me worried about what we'll find. "Sara, what happens next in the story?"

She freezes midstride and turns to me. "Cath, you have a daughter. You don't know the story?"

I shake my head, "Do you really think now is the time to question my choices in bedtime stories for my little girl?"

As if she suddenly remembered Lindsey, she stops and looks at me, "How is she? I mean, with us being here, is she okay?"

"I haven't talked to her much lately," and that's true, I haven't talked to my daughter much lately. It seems like every time I do, all she wants to do is ask about Sara. She's really hoping that something good comes from us being forced to spend so much time in close quarters. "You know, she really misses you. You should try to spend a little more time with her when we get back to Vegas."

Her features soften and a smile plays at her lips. "I'd like that. I miss her, too. Now, as for what happens next in the story. Why don't we have a look and see what our killer has left for us this time?"

"Sara, wait," I say as she looks up at me. "Are you okay? You just seem, uh, very willing to talk right now."

She pauses and looks down at her feet, like she's trying to find the words to answer me. "I'm just really worried. Someone's trying to hurt you and I'm sure it's because of me. And…let's just finish this scene and then we'll talk, okay?"

She starts walking toward the area where the coroner and various other agents have gathered. It doesn't go unnoticed by me that as Agent Novacek walks towards us, Sara maneuvers herself to be between us at all times.

"Well, it's about time the two of you show up. We've been waiting here for nearly an hour for the two of you," he says through gritted teeth.

I step around Sara so that I can be a part of this conversation. "We got here as soon as we could. Traffic was a bitch," I say before walking toward the body.

As I walk away from the pair, Sara continues to have a heated discussion with the Agent.

The first thing that hits me as I approach the body is the overwhelming smell of death and decay. In a shallow grave lay the body of what appears to be a young woman. Around her body lay the carcasses of several small animals—several small birds, a few mice, a couple of ducks and a cat. The signature is still intact as the victim is holding a rose and a pendulum is sitting at her feet. The body itself is, well, in shreds. I have to fight the bile threatening to rise up in my throat. There doesn't appear to be an inch of this woman's flesh that hasn't been slashed with some sharp object.

I'm collecting the evidence from around the body while Sara is working the perimeter of the scene, taking overall shots and sketching it.

I'm bending beside the grave snapping photos when I sense Sara approaching. I stand so that I'm beside her. One look at her and I know she's connected to this woman.

I put my hand on her shoulder before speaking, "You know her, don't you?" I try to make my voice as soft and as nonthreatening as possible.

She kneels beside the grave and starts to speak. "Her name is Kennedy Burton. She was an investigator in the coroner's office in San Francisco when I worked there. We dated for a while, before she broke up with me. Said she wasn't sure that she was gay. She didn't say it, but I gathered I was her 'experiment.' Not too long after being dumped, Grissom called me about coming to Vegas. And you know the rest of the story," she said with her voice void of any emotion.

"Sar, I…" I don't get to finish as she stands and walks to the far side of the grave.

"Don't…I don't want your apologies or your sympathy. I'm the cause of all this," she motions with her hands to the grave between us. "These people wouldn't be dead now if it wasn't for the fact that they had been in my life. First, it was Melissa and now it's Kennedy. After Kennedy, I had a lot of one night stands. There are only two other women that I've dated for any length of time, Catherine."

I look up from the grave when her words finally sink in, "Me and Adin?"

She quickly moves back around the grave and grabs me by the arm. "You need to get out of here."

I jerk my arm free of her grip, but remain close to her. "I'm not going anywhere until this case is done, Sara."

"Yes, you are. You can't be here. You're the next one. I'm not going to let something happen to you. I haven't done a good job of protecting you or keeping you in the loop before now, but you're in danger if you stay here. Please," she pleaded with me, "leave. Go back to Vegas. Get Lindsey. Get out of town. Go somewhere. Go anywhere. Don't tell anyone where you're going. Just leave."

"Sara, you need to calm down. You're not making much sense here. I'm involved in the investigation. Whoever is doing this would be a fucking madman to try and take me. I'm always with you, Ramirez or a slew of other agents. I'm never alone. Nothing is going to happen to me."

I'm not sure if I was trying to convince myself or Sara more. I think I failed to convince her as she grabbed me by the arm and practically dragged me back to the truck. She opened my door and physically pushed me into the seat. As she shut the door, she turned and called out to Agent Novacek, "Catherine is sick again. I'm taking her home. Our kits are over there. Take care of them."

As she slid into the truck, I let loose on her. "What the fuck is wrong with you, Sara? We can't just take off in the middle of a crime scene like that! Of all the stunts you've ever pulled, this has to be the dumbest. You left every one of those people back there wondering what the hell was going on. If the killer was there…" I let my voice trail off as it became apparent that she wasn't listening to me.

Sara's never been the most cautious driver, but right now, she was bordering on reckless. I was gripping the door with one hand and my feet were firmly planted on the floorboard. We made it back to the house in half the time it took for us to get to the crime scene. She pulled into the garage and drew her gun before getting out of the truck. She made her way to my side of the truck and opened the door, letting me out.

"Sara, don't you think…"

"Catherine, just be quiet until we get inside. And stay behind me," she said as she slowly opened the door to the house and stepped inside, gun directly in front of her, pointing in the direction her body was pointed. We made our way through the downstairs before moving upstairs, where Sara checked each room. When she was satisfied that there were no intruders in the house, she holstered her gun and walked into my room. She immediately went to the closet and pulled out my suitcase.

"Sara, what are you doing?" I ask her as she's throwing my clothes haphazardly into the suitcase. She doesn't bother answering me. She's so zoned in on what she's doing that I don't even think she remembers I'm in the same room. I grab her by the shoulders and spin her around to face me. "Sara, if the killer was at the scene or watching us, don't you think this is going to make the situation even worse?"

"There's no 'if the killer was there,' Cath. Someone who knows me very well and knows every little minute detail of my life is doing this. That means someone has been watching me. The killer could very well be one of the agents working the case. The point is, I don't know who we can trust. We need to get you out of here—out of town—as soon as possible. I was serious when I said you need to get Lindsey and leave and not tell anyone—including me—where you're going. And don't book a flight or buy tickets, just get in your car and drive."

She reaches over and takes my hand in hers. "Just earlier tonight you broke down 'cause you realized I could have been shot. Imagine what losing you or Lindsey would do to me. And this is more real than some dumbass holding a gun that he doesn't know how to use. Whoever is killing these people is an expert at killing. For him, killing is an art form."

"Sara, you need to slow down and think about this," I warn her. "All you're doing is drawing suspicion to us by acting this way."

She pushes me away and continues to throw my clothes into my suitcase, slamming it shut as she emptied the last of my clothes from the closet into it. "I'm going to call Sofia and have her meet us halfway to Vegas. I trust her to get you back there safely," she says as she pulls her cell from her pocket.

I immediately take it from her and toss it on the bed. "Sara, calm down. Let's talk…"

"I'm done with talking," she cuts me off. "I need to get you out of here before something happens to you. You're the next person I became involved with. We…"

I've had enough of letting her boss me around. I let her get me off the scene and I tolerated her drive back here and packing my clothes up, but I'm not going to let her treat me like some child she needs to protect. The only way I can think to shut her up is to kiss her.

I push her down on the bed and quickly fall on top of her, my mouth covering hers. Her hands move to my face, but I take them in my own and hold them down on the bed, deepening the kiss. It doesn't take long before she's managed to flip us over so that she's on top of me as her tongue slides against mine, making me moan. She releases my hand and starts to slide it under my shirt. She tugs gently on my bottom lip with her teeth which makes me buck up against her. This woman always knew what buttons to push on me. I had to fight the urge to keep kissing her. I pull back from the kiss and open my eyes to find her pupils completely dilated and blackened with desire.

"Now that I have your attention," I smile and say huskily to her. "I'm not going anywhere until we close this case. Understood?" I'm running my fingers up and down her sides.

She bends her head down to my neck and starts to nip at my pulse point. I can feel my pulse speeding up and wetness pooling between my legs as I instinctively spread them and Sara lies between them, firmly pressed against me. This feels so right, not to mention so good. Sara starts to move against me, as my hands have found their way into her hair.

"Sara…..baby….we….hmmmm……that feels so good….."

I can't find the words to tell her to stop. My body is betraying me. I want her so badly, but given the recent happenings between us, it just doesn't seem like we should be moving this fast. And I know it's all my fault. I used that kiss to shut her up, but it seems like all I did was jumpstart her libido.

Thankfully, an incessant ringing breaks her concentration and she reluctantly pulls back from me, fishing around in her pocket for her phone before remembering that I tossed it onto the bed.

"Sidle," she says into the phone as she manages to move her hand back under my shirt and makes small circles on my stomach with her fingertips.

"Greggo! How are you?...Yeah, she's here….yeah…..hold on, let me find her…."

She covers the phone and whispers, "He wants to talk to you. He said he tried your phone, but you never answered."

I immediately feel my pockets and notice my phone isn't in either of them. "Shit, I had it at the scene. I remember feeling it in my pocket when I bent down to take pictures," I say as I take the phone from Sara. She gets up off of me and I stand up and move to the window.

"Hey Greg. What'd you find out?"

"_Oh, I'm doing well, thanks for asking. Things around here? Oh they're just peachy. No, it's not tense with us being down two CSIs. No, we're not having to pull tons of OT. I gotta tell ya Cath, I dunno how Sara manages to work the way she works. Two twelves and.."_

"Greg, I'd love to catch up on the office gossip, but right now I want to know about the water I sent you. What did you find?"

"_Who did you piss off, Catherine?"_

"What are you talking about?"

"_Well, the only thing that showed on mass spec was solanine. _

I close the phone and turn to Sara. "Who would have access to solanine?"


	25. Chapter 25

**Alrighty, I know it's been a very long time since we've updated, blame it on me. Anyway, we're back on business now, so thanks for your reviews and for sticking around. And you get a long chapter for the dealy ;)**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

* * *

**Chapter 25: Sara**

"_You're so full of yourself!" Cath said laughing. "They failed but there's still a possibility for this myth to be real."_

"_I'm right and you know it! You can't make a motor with gunpowder!"_

"_Why not? Gunpowder is eight times more powerful than fuel," Cath reasoned._

"_Christiaan Huygens, Sir George Cayley, Thomas Payne, they all try but failed. Gun powder is powerful__, but there's no system fast enough to actually obtain more than one cycle from the motor. All you get is a detonation, no mechanism is fast enough to supply powder and recreate a cycle because power is…"_

_I find myself pinned on a wall with Cath kissing the daylights out of me, effectively cutting my scientific rant. When she finally pulls back I'm light headed "Wow," was my first word. "What was that for?"_

"_I just wanted to get your attention," Cath answered with a wink._

"_You have it, definitely," I answered before capturing her lips again._

xxxxx

Cath has always had the most sensual and pleasant way to make me shut up, kissing me senseless. The last thing I remember is that I was trying to make her see my point about her returning to Vegas. That was before finding myself lying in bed with her straddling and kissing me.

My first reaction is to lose my hands in her hair, but she takes my hands away and pins them on the mattress while she deepens the kiss. I flip us over and take control of our kiss. I hear her moaning and this is my undoing. This sound always makes me want to possess her whole, it awakes a wild, carnal need in me. I feel like I am breathing for the first time in a long while. How have I managed to go on in life without feeling Cath's skin under my palms, her lips against mine? Saying I missed this would be a freaking understatement.

I slide my hands under her shirt all the while tugging at her bottom lip with my teeth. Her body reacts under my touch. I've learned each inch of this skin, every little trick to make it mine. Yet, every time feels like a discovery. She pulls back from our kiss and tries to focus on me. I think my eyes tell the tale of my desire for her.

"Now that I have your attention," she smiles and says huskily to me. "I'm not going anywhere until we close this case. Understood?" she's running her fingers up and down my sides, as if to tame my wild side.

I bend my head down to her neck and start to nip at her pulse point – one of her weak spots. I can feel her pulse speeding up under my lips. I lie between her legs and firmly press myself against her. I want her so badly. I feel her hands losing themselves in my hair as I move against her and it's all the encouragement I needed.

"Sara…..baby….we….hmmmm……that feels so good….." she says in between ragged breaths. Somewhere in the back of my head a little voice named 'reason' tries to tell me that this isn't a good idea, that we're moving too fast. I doubt that this voice knows what it's like to kiss Catherine Willows because if it did, it would shut up immediately and let me enjoy this marvellous trip.

There's an incessant ringing which only kills my focus on her. I reluctantly pull back from Cath and fish in my pocket for my phone before remembering that Cath tossed it onto the bed minutes ago. This better be good.

"Sidle," I answer. I can't help but keep on touching Cath, so my fingertips somehow find their way back on her stomach.

"_Hey Buttercup, it's me,"_ says the familiar voice. I can't help the smile on my lips at my pet name, Greg might be the only one I let flirt with me openly on daily – or almost daily basis.

"Greggo! How are you?"

"_Except from the fact that I miss you, I'm good. Hey listen do you know where I can reach Cath?"_

"Yeah, she's here," I reply.

"_I've been trying to reach her for hours now. Can you hand her over?"_

"Yeah…..hold on, let me find her…." I say, somehow I don't think it would be a good idea for Greg's overactive brain to know that Catherine is currently under me.

"_Thanks, you're the best,"_ he says.

I cover my phone with my hand before talking to Cath. "He wants to talk to you. He said he tried your phone, but you never answered."

She touches her pockets. "Shit, I had it at the scene. I remember feeling it in my pocket when I bent down to take pictures," she says before taking the phone from my hands. I get up from her, not trusting myself. I know that if I stay on her with both of my hands free, I certainly won't keep them to myself. She gets up and goes to the window. Absentmindedly I listen to Cath's side of the conversation, all the while processing what's happening.

I just got my reason back and realized how much I put Cath in danger. Tonight another of my lovers is lying at the morgue. All this time the guys and I thought that the killer was after all of us, but the deeper we get in this case and the more it appears that I'm the only common factor of each murder. And if the killer is following a chronological pattern which I believe he does then Cath is dangerously close to be the next impersonation of Alice. This realization made me go ballistic and lead to our recent making out session, although I'm sure it wasn't Cath real goal when she kissed me.

"Who would have access to solanine?" she asks me suddenly, disturbing my train of thought. I frown at her question.

"Why are you asking?"

"Apparently, that's what has been used to poison me. So, who would have access to solanine?" she repeats.

"About half of the planet. Every single person in possession of a potato is a suspect," I answer flatly.

"You've got to be kidding me," Cath snorts.

"Nope, it's naturally found in the green zones of potatoes. In small quantities, it's inoffensive for adults, but in high doses it can be lethal."

"Let's be logical about this. Half of the planet doesn't want to kill me. We have two options here. First, the one who's doing this is the killer. Second, the killer and the poisoner are two different people. So, the question is who has an interest in poisoning me. All we can say so far is that it's an inside job," she reasons aloud. "The first time I was poisoned was at the HQ, Liam handed me a coffee. The second time was after you handed me a glass of milk and the third time was when I drank from a bottle of water that was originally in the fridge. I wonder how the perp managed to get his hands on solanine. I mean, I doubt it's sold freely and even though it's found in potatoes I'm sure it needs to be refined somehow."

"Condensation. It's like extracting the essence of a flower. It's a simple process that anyone who has taken a basic science class can perform in their kitchen," I answer without thinking.

"I don't know," I say. I'm about to leave the room, but once more I come to my senses. "Cath, I'm not kidding. I want you to go back to Vegas," I tell her seriously.

"Sara, I'm not a kid. I'm going to stay here no matter what you say," she says firmly. I'm about to protest when she talks again. "You keep saying that you can stand the idea of anything happening to me, well it goes both ways. I can't just leave you here at the mercy of a killer."

"Fine," I concede to her. I know it's an argument I won't win. "But if it gets too dangerous, you're taking the first flight to Vegas, no questions asked. From now on, you're not leaving my side."

"Sara stop! I know how to defend myself. I'm going to do my job and so will you. Let's look at the files again."

"Actually, I need to see Aaron and you're coming with me because I'm not leaving you on your own…" I start.

"I'm not a puppy that you're going to take along on every move you make."

"Damn it, Catherine!" I curse. She can be a real pain when she's stubborn like this. I know she doesn't like to feel dependant on others, but the situation isn't like one she's ever been in before. "Can't you let go of your pride for two bloody minutes?!"

She sighs heavily. "I'm not going to be a dead weight on this case. I want this killer to stop as much as you do, so unless you're going to see a suspect or have a lead, I'm going to stay here and study the files."

"You're going to the lab. At least you won't be alone. Even better, I want you to stay with Flash," I reply. She's about to protest but I continue speaking, "This is not a negotiation."

"Let's make a list of the people we can trust and the one we can't, shall we? I don't trust Flash this idiot could have killed you," she says angrily.

"It was an accident."

"For all I know, Ramirez is on our side."

"Ramirez?" I snort. She's got to be kidding me. Is she high or something?

"I know it's not what you want to hear, but she's…"

"Just because you slept with her doesn't mean she's on our side!"

"Don't go there, Sara! Not when you and I have actually managed to make some headway," Cath warns me.

The truce we seemed to have made is on the edge of being blown up. I take deep breaths in order to calm off. "All I'm saying is that I don't trust her, and I have good reason not to."

"Sara, she doesn't trust you because she thinks you're involved in these murders and somehow you are. Now, if we tell her the truth…"

"No freaking way! I'm not telling that bitch shit and you better not either. I'm serious here," I say vehemently.

"I'm not going to say anything. All I'm saying is that she's no threat, okay?" Cath replies. She sighs heavily. "Listen, there aren't that many people I can trust here, the fewer the better, seeing the situation. I trust Ramirez – whether you like it or not – so put your jealousy aside. So far you haven't given me many reasons to trust you either and if it wasn't for the fact that I…" she trails off. "If it wasn't for the fact that you told me the truth about your past, you wouldn't be on the list of the people I trust."

"Fine, whatever. The point is that I don't want you to be alone at any moment now. That's all I'm asking," I say.

My cell phone comes to life again, breaking the tension. "Sidle."

"_We need you in here for a briefing."_ Liam says before hanging up on me. I stare at my phone. I guess he didn't appreciate our little chat at the scene.

"What's wrong?" Cath asks me.

"We have to go to the lab," I answer.

We go to the car in silence and I drive us to the lab.

"You know what I wonder? How do you know all these things about solanine? I mean, I know your brain is full of knowledge, but I would think that there are some things you don't know," Catherine chuckles.

"It was my first year as a CSI. There was this man…Mr McLoufy, he claimed that someone was trying to poison him. I remember it was during the summer and there was nothing to do. It seemed like crime had taken a holiday. Anyway, the poor man thought there was a conspiracy going on against him. Of course they sent me to solve this 'high profile' case. Mr McLoufy said that after eating his lunch he had stomach cramps, fever, hallucinations of all sorts, and puked his guts out for hours," I say.

"Sounds so familiar," Cath says with sarcasm.

"Anyway, I took blood samples and there was solanine in a pretty high quantity. After doing some research, I found out that solanine came from bad potatoes. I asked Mr McLoufy and it turns out that he ate potatoes every day. I thought 'case closed.' But three days later, he was sick again. It was the third time already. He said that he'd been eating potatoes every day for twenty years, so something had to be up."

"Stubborn as you are, I bet you didn't let go until you found the answer."

"You're right. You see, the only time someone other than him touched the food was at home. There he had a cook, a maid, kids and a wife, his brothers and his old father."

"Sounds like a big Clue party," Cath states in a joking tone.

"It was, so I asked him to bake the potatoes himself and to take it to work and that day, guess what?"

"No intoxication." she answers.

"Yep, conclusion?" I smile.

"The poisoning, if there was poisoning, happened when the food chain from home to work was broken. The poisoner came from inside."

"Correct. So I checked out everyone in the house."

"Let me guess, Colonel Mustard in the library with the candle holder," Cath jokes and we both chuckle.

"Close. It was one of his brothers and the wife in the kitchen. They were having an affair and they thought that a death by poisoning would be easier and quicker than a divorce, not to mention the profit."

Cath laughs hard. I've got to say that it's the most beautiful sound I've heard. "What people wouldn't do for money," She says as she shakes her head.

"Tell me about it. The older son was a wannabe chemist, so they used his chemistry set to make highly concentrated doses of solanine."

"By condensation," Cath adds.

"Exactly."

"Okay, so we're looking for someone with a chemistry background," Cath says pensively.

"Easy, lucky us we don't work in a place surrounded by lab techs and all….we'd be pretty much toast otherwise."

Cath chuckles, "Smartass."

xxxxx

We arrive at the lab ten minutes later. The briefing lasts 40 minutes without incident. We haven't moved an inch. The killer hasn't made any real mistakes. He actually failed to follow the story correctly, but it's a mere detail. He didn't leave any trace or clues, or at least not any clue that he didn't want to leave behind him.

Cath and I decide to study the scenes all over through the different pictures we've taken. Catherine thinks we should see the whole thing as a big puzzle. There are no useless elements. We might have overlooked some evidence, or rejected some that we found irrelevant. The devil's in the details and our killer is a smart man. He sent thorough messages and though he works quickly, he's never done a sloppy job.

"Hey Sara, what do you see there?" Cath asks me, showing me a picture and handing me a magnifying glass. She points a specific area with her finger.

I look closer and frown. "It looks like….rabbit deposit," I say.

"I thought so, too. Look at this. There are deposits at every scene," Cath states showing me pictures. "There was a head of rabbit on the first scene, now deposits, but no rabbit."

"Alice follows the rabbit throughout the whole story," I answer.

"She follows a rabbit?"

"Well, yeah. The rabbit keeps saying that he's late and she wonders what he's late for, so she follows him."

"Okay, that's weird," Cath chuckles.

"Trust me, the rabbit might be the least strange character in the whole story."

"What I don't get is the message behind all this. Why a rabbit?" Cath asks after a moment.

"The important thing isn't so much the rabbit as what it represents. The rabbit is one of the symbols of time. The Hatter is the time as a standstill, while the rabbit represents the passing of time."

"It doesn't make any sense at those scenes. What's the message?"

I stop studying the pictures as a thought crosses my mind. "Time is still running."

"Makes sense now. Want a coffee?" Cath asks me.

"Yeah," I answer before studying the pictures again.

After a moment, I feel someone's eyes on my back, and I know it's not Cath. "May I help you?" I ask harshly, not tearing my eyes away from the pictures.

"You know for someone sick, she is in great shape," Liam's voice says with sarcasm. I turn and look at him with a mean stare. "So, did you find anything?"

"Actually yes. Tell me something. Did you find a rabbit close at any of the scenes?" I ask him.

He narrows his eyes and thinks. "No. Why?"

"Check this out. At every crime scene, there were rabbit droppings," I say, showing him the picture.

"And that's relevant?"

"Well, I think that until we actually find the rabbit, we're relatively safe," I reply.

"I see," he answers not really convinced.

"You wanted something?"

"Actually, yes. I received another picture today," he fishes in his pocket and hands me a picture. "Aren't we cute?" he asks with a fake smile.

The picture shows the four of us, high as kites. I frown when I realize something. "You know what? I received a picture from the same evening, only I was alone in it."

From the clothes I'm wearing in this picture, I can tell that it was been taken the same day as the one Cath found in the fridge.

"What's the message behind it?" Liam asks me.

"Agent Novacek," Cath greets Liam as she comes back with two cups of coffee. Liam's first reaction is to take back the picture in his hands and act as casually as possible.

"Ms. Willows."

"She's knows everything Liam," I tell him flatly. He turns to me with a look of surprise.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Are you mad?"

"Liam," I sigh.

"You could have consulted us before telling her anything," he scolds me through his teeth.

"It's not really like I had the choice here," I protest.

"Oh, I've no doubt of that. How do we know we can trust her? She could turn us in or betray us at any moment! Have you thought about the fact that in spite of your common past, she might not be the best ally we have here…she's…"

"Still in the room." Cath cuts him off sharply. "Hasn't anyone ever told you that it is rude to speak of someone like they weren't in the room when they actually are?"

Liam sighs and doesn't answer her. He punches the table hard and then pinches the bridge of his nose. "Does Spencer know about this?" he asks. I don't answer, but look away with a sigh. "Great, that's just great."

"Look, we can trust her."

"Oh yeah? Says who?"

"Says me," I growl.

"Gee, I feel better now," Liam snorts.

"I'll answer for her. Liam, she's on our sides." I say calmly.

He's about to reply when his beeper goes off. He looks down at it and then looks at me again. "I've got to go," he sighs heavily. "If I was you, I'd avoid Spencer finding out about her," he advises me. I nod in response. He's about to take back his picture when I take it.

"Leave it. We'll study this closely," I say mentioning Cath and I.

"Whatever. I'll see you guys later," he replies, still upset about Cath and leaves without another word.

"I'm going to smack him," Cath states. I turn to her and give her a quizzical look, "Did you see his attitude? Acting like I wasn't in the room, I can't believe him!"

"Down Cath," I sigh. "I think his reaction was to be expected. You weren't exactly a part of the plan. Let's get back to work shall we?"

Cath glares at me, but then goes back to the pictures on the table and we start working again.

After what feels like an eternity, I straighten up a bit and stretch my back. Hours of looking at the pictures and with the exception of rabbit droppings, we didn't find anything new. I look at Cath and she's frowning and all her focus is on the picture in her hand. I can hear the gears turning in her brain at high speed.

I know this look. It means she's onto something. It's like she is in a trance. The building could blow up and she wouldn't notice it. That should say how intense her focus is. Suddenly, she grabs several pictures and starts to leave the room. "I'll be right back," she throws over her shoulder before disappearing. I wonder what she has, but I know better than to bother her now. I'll know soon enough anyway.

About five minutes later, she comes back in the room with transparency prints and the pictures. "This guy like puzzles, right?" she starts, but I know it's only a rhetorical question so I don't bother answering. "In fact, ever since the beginning, he's been leaving pieces of a puzzle behind waiting for us to figure out how to put all the pieces together. He's way too smart to leave anything to chance. And I think I figured out one of his riddles. Remember the tattoos on the victims? It didn't look like anything individually, but…" She stops and stacks the transparency prints and raises them in front of me.

You've got to be joking.

"Not bad, is it?" she says smugly.

She has made a transparency print of the tattoo pictures. Separately, each tattoo was just insignificant and random lines, but now that Cath has superimposed them over one another, we have a complete pattern, a sign.

"You're good, you're very good," I say still in awe of her finding.

"I know," she smiles brightly, very proud of herself. "Now question. Do you know what it is?" she asks me.

"A Triskell," I answer frowning.

"A what?"

"A Triskell, it's a Celtic cross which has a lot of meanings. First the elements: earth, water and fire; then the different steps of life: birth, life, death. And we can go on and on with the significance of this. Now, it says that it's also a symbol of war."

"And you know this because?"

"I've seen this before," I answer. I'm digging in my memory to find where I saw this sign before. My eyes fall on the picture Liam brought earlier. Then the bulb lights up in my head. I grab my phone and dial a number.

"_Hello?"_

"Squirt, it's me. Can you meet me in the backyard?" I ask cryptically.

"_The backyard? What are you talking about?"_

"You know. The…backyard," I repeat. There's a long silence on the line.

"_Oh…the backyard, yeah I can meet you there."_

"Can you be there in, say, twenty minutes?"

"_Sure."_

"Oh, and bring shovels with you," I ask before hanging up. Cath is looking at me suspiciously. "Come on, we have to go," I simply say.

We've been driving for ten minutes when Cath's curiosity wins. "Alright, who did you call and where are we going?" she asks a bit on edge.

"Aaron. I called Aaron and we're going to a spot we used to hang around when we were young and that we called our 'backyard'," I answer not leaving the road.

"And what is there in your 'backyard'?"

"Answers – if we're lucky," I reply.

We don't exchange any more words until we reach our destination. It's a forest we used to go to – Aaron, Spencer, Liam, Ronald and I. It's really quiet and far from everything, so we could get high and have fun. It was kind of our den. We approach Aaron who's waiting at a specific spot near a tree.

"What is she doing here?" he asks staring at Cath.

"I do remember teaching you politeness," I scold him.

He turns to Catherine, "Hi," he says shortly before turning to me again. "What is she doing here?" he repeats.

"She knows everything," I simply answer.

"Okay," he just shrugs. He hands me a shovel and we start to dig.

"Hmmm….What are you doing?" Cath asks.

"Digging," Aaron mutters.

"Thanks for your keen observation, although I think I could have figured that out by myself," she replies. "What are you digging for?"

"You know the picture you found in the fridge?" I ask Cath.

"Yeah."

"Something was off in it and I remembered what it was when you showed me the Triskell."

"And what was that?"

"I'm wearing a necklace I was given for my 8th birthday."

"And what does it have to do with digging a hole in the middle of the forest?" Cath asks intrigued.

"That's where the necklace is, and has been for what feels like forever," I tell her before digging again. "You said it yourself – the killer is way too smart to leave anything to chance. The picture was taken the day we buried this time capsule. So I think he wants us to look in the box. Something must be in it."

Thirty minutes later we have managed to reach the box. Aaron and I pull it out of the ground and open it. "Okay, excuse me for sounding so pessimistic, but I don't see anything but random objects" Cath says.

I sigh, "Let's not give up right away, okay?" I reply. The truth be told, I don't want to admit that she might be right, because that would mean that I'm wrong and I don't like being wrong.

"Let's process this methodically. You put the necklace and this wrist chain in it. I put a cap and a baseball," Aaron says. "Spencer put a book and a pair of glasses. Ronald put his ring and his collection of rocks," he says taking every item out as he speaks. "Now, Liam put a camera and…a pendulum?"

"What?" I exclaim surprised. "Let see this."

Aaron hands me the pendulum. Before I can say something, Cath speaks, "Sara, look at the pattern on it!"

"You've got to be kidding me," I muse. There's a Triskell, identical to the tattoos on the victims carved on the base of the pendulum.

"What? What's going on?" Aaron asks.

"The pattern on the pendulum is the same one we found tattooed on the victims," I answer. "I remember now. This was Liam's grandfather's pendulum, and when he put it in this box, he tattooed the Triskell on his shoulder blade. That's when I wanted to know the meaning of this sign." I sigh.

"Wait a minute? What are you thinking? That Liam is behind all this? It's impossible you know it. Come on, Liam?" Aaron says.

"I know, I know…" I sigh. This is crazy, I refuse to believe that the person I consider another brother is behind all this. It just can't be.

"Well, it fits," Cath says suddenly. I turn to her, she can't be serious. "Don't look at me like that. You know I'm right. Think about it. He would have pictures like the one you received in his possession. He has enough knowledge to cover his tracks. He has access to the files and can tamper with evidence. He's one of the lead investigators on the case, so he can hide as many details as he wants and send people on wild goose chases. Last but not least, the tattoos on the victims form the pattern which comes from his pendulum. Coincidence? I don't think so."

"Maybe, I don't know…" I start to protest

"Sara, the evidence is talking. And I'm pretty sure he could have access to solanine, which only confirms my suspicions about him. I mean, he handed me the coffee, then he has access to our house and knew our schedule so he knew when to get in and when not to. Think about the profile we established. The killer is daring and confident. He's not trying to hide. It can even seem like he was framing himself, but he's not. He's pulling the strings, we are like puppets," Cath argues. "Think about it, Sara. Who else could have old pictures of you? Who else could have the ability to mislead the FBI? Who else could know about your dirty little secret? Who else could know about this time capsule?"

"Spencer could be behind all of this," I reply. "No wait. He couldn't memorize the formula of water if his life depended on it, much less extract solanine by condensation," I reason.

"It all fits. We have a suspect," Cath says smiling.

"We have nothing," I say.

"Sara…" she starts but I cut her off.

"Admitting you're right, we still don't have anything. Two words: holy trinity. You know just like me that we have to connect the suspect to the victim and to the crime scene. All we have right now are assumptions and a pendulum. So let's face it, we have zilch."

"Skim, can I talk to you for a moment?" Aaron asks me, taking be by the arm. "Excuse us," he says to Catherine and then leads me away from her.

"You're not seriously thinking that Liam is involved in those murders, are you?" he asks.

"It's not about what I think, but about evidence. And so far, Cath is right. The evidence leads us to Liam. And…"

"Liam? He's like a brother to us. How can you even think that he could be the killer?"

"There's something you don't seem to realize. Whoever is behind all this know us and our secret. Most likely it could be one of us. I know I don't have anything to do with this, I want to believe that neither do you."

"I have nothing to do with this!" he protests.

"I'm just following the evidence, and Spencer might be a selfish prick but… the evidence doesn't point to him."

"The evidence?" he snorts. "Are you sure you're not letting your feelings for her blind your judgment?"

"I resent that!" I growl. I take a deep breath. "Look, if you have any better idea, share it. Otherwise I'm going to follow this lead until we get something new," I tell him.

"Whatever. You're making a mistake and you know it. Liam is innocent. We all are, but someone is against us." He sighs heavily, "Go on and do what you have to. I'll be waiting for you to come to me and say that I was right," he teases me, but deep inside, I hope he's right.

We return to Cath and decide to put back the box underground, minus the pendulum. "Okay, we're ready to go," I announce. I hug Aaron. "Take care of yourself," I whisper.

"Yeah, don't worry," he replies. I step back and kiss his forehead before ruffling his hair, my silent way to tell him that I love him. "Hey," he protests, but it's more for show because he likes it when I do this.

Five minutes later, Cath and I are in the car heading to the house. The ride is silent, as we are both lost in our thoughts. For the first time since this case started, we might have our first real lead.

xxxxx

"Hey, are you hungry?" Cath asks me.

We came back to the house forty minutes ago, I took a shower and I've tried to rest without success.

"Sure, I'm starving," I answer with a smile.

We start to eat having an easy banter about everything and mostly Lindsey. We haven't yet talked about the kisses we exchanged or the make out session in her room. I think we're both a bit apprehensive about redefining our relationship now. I suppose there's still hope for us to get back together. Or at least I know I still affect her, so that surely means there is hope. I miss her, and I miss coming home to her everyday, and the family night with Lindsey. I miss her, and all the complications of our relationship.

My phone rings and I pick up.

"Sidle."

"_It's Flash, __I found something on your shirt,"_ he says.

"I'm all ears."

"_I finally found a match__. The DNA is from some Ronald…"_

"Nagaer," I cut him.

"_Yeah, that right."_

Ronald's DNA was to be expected, but still it's a proof that he was involved in the rape/murders back then.

"Any luck on the second DNA?"

"_Nope, not yet, but I'm still on it."_

"Alright, call me the second you have news."

"_I will, see you later,"_ he says before hanging up.

I look at Catherine. "That was Flash. He found Ron's DNA on the shirt, there's another sample he hasn't identified yet. Something tells me that it's Ron's accomplice."

"Possibly Liam's," Cath says.

I sigh. "Fine let's follow this lead. We need to check if Liam was gone at the time of the murders. Seeing how things were staged, I'd say he'd always need at least two hours to make it all up if not more."

"I could check the surveillance tape of the FBI building to make a time sheet of his moves," Cath replies.

"Yeah, you should do this. I'll have to think about a way to get his DNA, so I can give it to Flash for comparison."

We keep on establishing a course of action. After several minutes she yawns, so we decide to call it a day. We clean the dishes and then head upstairs. Once we arrive at her bedroom door she turns to me, cups my face and kisses me. It takes me a second, but I respond to her kiss. Then she pulls back and goes in her room without a word.

I can't help the smile on my lips as I go in my room.

xxxxx

"Well I suppose this shot your theory down in flames," I say with a sigh.

We've been watching videos for the past four hours, and all this to conclude Liam must leave the office one hour a day and if he spends more time outside it's only when we're all at the crime scene. I thought I was a workaholic, but he's definitely worse than I am.

"That doesn't prove anything. Like I said, he has access to any and all information. If he's the killer, he's way too smart to get caught by surveillance tapes. It just proves that we can't establish a correct chronology. Nothing more, nothing less," Cath replies.

Our pagers beep and announce that we have another victim. Great.

When we arrive at the scene, I have a bad feeling, like I knew something very wrong was about to happen. Cath and I grab our kits and pass under the yellow tape. Apparently the scene is indoors, which is weird since all previous victims were outside so everyone could see them. The first thing I notice is a metallic sound. As we get closer to the sound, I realize it's a white rabbit colliding against his cage while his trying to escape.

"Well, we found the rabbit," Cath says in a low tone.

"False alarm, it's a suicide," one of the FBI agent states as he's going out of a house.

Cath and I go further in the house which is more like an abandoned building. We get closer to the little crowd of agents gathered. When we reach the body, my breath leaves my lungs as if I had received a blow to the guts. My kit falls of my numb fingers, and I feel cold air travelling through me. My legs change into rubber and I feel myself ready to fall on the floor. My head is spinning fast and I have trouble breathing.

"No, please no…" I beg in a breathy whisper. "Squirt."

There, hanging in front of me is the body of my baby brother, Aaron.

I feel myself moving, yet I'm not sure I'm doing this by myself. Cold air caresses my face and I realize that I'm outside again. I look down and see Cath's hand on my arm. She must have taken me out. She faces me and talks to me softly. I see her lips moving, yet no sound comes to my ears. My blood is beating so loudly in my ears that I don't hear anything else.

Suddenly my stomach lurches and I run away so I can puke my guts out. I feel like I'm suffocating. I'm heaving, yet oxygen doesn't seem to reach my lungs. I get close to the wall and let myself slide down.

This can't be. I'm going to wake up. Squirt is fine, he's at home, sleeping like a baby, snoring and drooling like he always does.

"Come on, I'm taking you home," I hear Cath's voice. She sounds far away from me. I look at her and try to process her words. I think all the connections in my brain are off because my mind is blank right now.

The coroner passes by with the stretcher and the body in a bag. This can't be. I get up and stop him. I open the bag and look at the body. Aaron's sweet face is pale, yet he looks like he was sleeping. There's purple mark around his neck from where the rope was attached. I want to touch him badly, but I don't. Yesterday I was holding him to me and now he's as cold as stone.

I feel raging anger filling my body, burning every inch of my skin. I ball my fist and grit my teeth. I feel a new energy invading me, powerful blinding rage and lust for revenge. The bastard who did this better pray to whatever god there is that I don't get my hands on him, because I'll be merciless.

* * *

**I'm a sciences addict and I watch a show where they are making experiments, called _'Myth Busters'_, they tried to make gunpowder motor, and confirmed it wasn't possible. Anyway, they're my source of information. :)**

**Thanks for reading.**


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer: I don't own 'em….**

**Chapter 26: Catherine**

The first thing that strikes me as we enter the newest scene is the constant 'clacking' sound of metal moving against metal.

As we move far enough into the house so that I see the source of the sound, I see that it's a caged rabbit throwing its body against a metal cage. "Well, we found the rabbit."

I'm not even sure that Sara hears me speaking. She seems to be in her own little world right now. She's like this at every scene, quietly taking in everything and making mental notes. Her mind works in ways that I can't even begin to fathom. I only wish that I could see a scene through her eyes once.

We pass an agent leaving from one of the inner rooms in the house. He mumbles, "False alarm, it's a suicide," as he passes us.

We enter the room where the victim was found and find a few agents standing near the body. I immediately sense that something is wrong. Sara's complexion turns ashen and her body tenses. Finger print powders and lift tapes scatter around the room as her kit crashes to the floor with a resounding thud. The only thing I can hear is the sound of rushing air leaving Sara's lungs as she struggles to stand on her own feet. I drop my kit beside me and reach out to steady her on her feet.

I faintly hear her whisper, "No, please, no. Squirt." My heart breaks at the tone in her voice.

I look up and see Aaron's lifeless body dangling from a rope. Anger at Liam and Spencer for not at least warning Sara what she was walking into immediately floods my senses. I wrap one arm around her shoulders to both steady her on her feet and comfort her, and the other takes her hand to lead her away from the crime scene.

We're standing outside in the chill of the night air and I'm trying to comfort Sara. I know she's in shock and not hearing a word I'm saying to her, but I think this is just as much for her benefit as it is for mine. I feel totally useless right now. Even though I had no idea until recently that Sara had a brother, I know how much she must have loved him. And for her to have to walk in and see his dead body hanging as people who have known her all of her life look on without having warned her—I can't imagine what she must be feeling. Damn that Liam and Spencer! When I get my hands on them…

Suddenly, Sara lurches away from me and runs to a corner of the alley and begins heaving. I stand back, giving her a moment, until I see her slide down against the wall and bury her face in her hands.

I walk over to where she's sitting and kneel down in front of her, "Come on. I'm taking you home."

She looks up into my face, but I'm still not certain my words have registered with her. As I reach out to take her hands in mine so that I can pull her to her feet, I hear the clamor of the coroner's stretcher against the uneven pavement. Sara has rediscovered her strength as she bolts to her feet and blocks the coroner from going any further.

He looks at me and then to Sara and backs away silently. She reaches out to touch the bag and jerks her hand back as if she has been burned. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath and reaches out once again. This time she unzips the bag and focuses on the lifeless face of her baby brother. She just stands there, staring down at him. I know that given the opportunity, this is where she'll still be in an hour.

"Come on baby, we're going home," I say as I zip the bag up and take her hand in mine and pull her close to me as we walk to the car.

The drive back to the house we're living in is made in silence. Sara's silently crying and fuming over the loss of her brother. I'm sure that despite her grief stricken state of mind, she's trying to piece together why he'd kill himself. I can't picture Sara ever giving up on life, so I'm sure she's questioning as to whether or not Aaron actually took his own life.

We pull into the garage and she makes no effort to get out of the car. We sit there enveloped in silence before I finally reach over to take her hand in mine. As our flesh makes contact, she jerks away and opens the door in one fluid motion. I let her go, not wanting to fight with her. I usually enjoy fighting with her, but I think it's neither fair nor wise to attack a wounded animal. And right now, Sara has been backed into a corner. She'll come out fighting if I push the least little bit now.

I wait a few minutes before following her into the house. As I reach the base of the stairs, I find her shirt lying on the floor. Halfway up the stairs, I find her bra. Her shoes are at the landing of the stairs. Just past my bedroom door, I find her pants. I gather each piece as I make my way towards her room. As I reach her door and her underwear, I can hear the shower running. I step inside her room and toss her shoes into a corner and put the clothes in a pile with the rest of what I assume to be her dirty clothes.

Part of me wants to walk into the bathroom and make sure she's okay—even though I know she's not. I want to take her in my arms and make all of this better—to wipe away the stain of her brother's apparent suicide. I know Sara won't let me do that. She won't let me be that person.

I'm still musing about how to handle Sara when she emerges from her shower when the ringing phone brings me back to the present. I find the pants Sara had discarded in the hallway and fish her phone out of the pocket.

"Hello?" I answer her phone cautiously.

"Who is this?" says a familiar voice on the other end of the phone.

"Uh, you called this phone and you don't know who you're speaking to?"

The man on the other end chuckles before continuing, "Well, Ms. Willows, I didn't expect you to answer Ms. Sidle's phone."

Suddenly, anger fills me and brims over. I step into the hallway so that there's little chance of Sara overhearing any part of my conversation—even over the running water. "How the fuck could you not warn Sara that she was walking into her brother's suicide? You call yourself her friend?"

"I assure you, Ms. Willows, that I had no idea it was Aaron until I arrived on the scene. Spencer didn't even bother telling me who it was. I was just as surprised as Sara was when she got there."

I laugh sarcastically, "Really? Was it your brother hanging there?"

"No, but he might as well have been. I don't want to argue with you, but I do need to speak with Sara. I hadn't seen Aaron in a while and I know his kids need to be informed. I was going to deal with that so that Sara didn't have to. Could you put her on the phone?"

I flatly answer, "No," before closing the phone.

Sara's an aunt. Her brother has kids. There is no way—no way at all if she and Aaron shared any DNA—that he'd have killed himself. She'd never do that to me and even though I barely knew him, I'm certain Aaron wouldn't have done this to his family. And I'm certain that Sara is thinking the same thing. It's just all too convenient that he'd kill himself once some evidence started to appear.

A heart-rending shriek pierces my thoughts and I rush into the bathroom to find Sara crumpled on the floor of the shower. Without hesitation, I step between her and the spray of water and bend down to help her to her feet. She reaches up and wraps her arms around my neck and as I stand, she clings to me like a second skin.

This is a side of Sara I've never seen. This is a broken Sara. With the water pelting my back through my clothes, I run one hand soothingly up and down her naked back as the other holds her head close against me. Silent sobs are wracking her body as she shivers and shudders against me.

"Shhhh. Things will be okay, Sar. I'm here. I've got you, babe," I attempt in vain to calm her. Her hold on me tightens.

"We're going to find out what happened, okay? But first, we need to get you out of here. We need…"

I'm caught off guard by her sudden movements as she spins me around and pushes me hard against the shower wall. She grips my shirt and rips it open as she invades my mouth with her tongue. This feels so wrong. This isn't how we're supposed to be with one another. I put my hands on her chest and push her back slightly, forcing her to look at me in surprise. Her eyes are darkened with more than desire.

"Sara, we…" She presses her body against me and her teeth sink into the warm softness that is my neck which only causes me to push her away roughly again. She runs her tongue along her top lip before gently biting her own bottom lip. She brings her hands up and covers mine with her own. Her hands slide down to grip my wrists, twisting them roughly behind my back and pinning them there by pushing against me even harder.

She runs her tongue along my jaw as her fingers move down my stomach. I try to push off the wall, to stop this—this—this whatever it is. Sara continues to move one hand slowly down my stomach as she brings her other arm to my throat and pushes firmly against it. My eyes meet hers and my movements immediately cease.

"I thought you'd see things my way," she says huskily before roughly slipping her hand into my pants. As she attacks my clit with need and desperation, I close my eyes and try to imagine that this isn't happening. I'm not going to fight her. She obviously needs to feel something—to feel some connection to humanity—to be anchored and grounded to this moment.

She had been my lover—my equal—my partner in all things. But in this moment, she is a stranger. Her touch is alien and unfamiliar. I've never felt anything like this with her. I know she wants a connection, but all I'm feeling is disconnected. Her hands, mouth, even her smell both repulses and frightens me. I've heard rape victims say that they imagine something else is happening to survive the most extreme violation that a woman can suffer. And that's exactly what I'm doing.

I close my eyes and focus on breathing. I'm on a beach somewhere in the Caribbean. The sun is beating down on me as I sip a colorful drink adorned with an umbrella. The waves are lapping at my feet.

As quickly as they had started, Sara's movements stop. Her fingers are still on my clit, but they're no longer moving. The pressure on my throat disappears. I open my eyes and look into Sara's and it's like she's seeing me for the first time. Without breaking eye contact, she slowly withdraws her hand from my pants. She takes a step back and opens her mouth to speak, only no words make it out.

She drops her head and steps out of the shower, grabbing a towel and heading into the bedroom. I don't look in her direction. Instead, I pull my drenched clothes off and toss them on the bathroom floor. I grab Sara's soap and try to scrub away the sick feeling that's crawling all over my body. I scrub until my skin is pink and tender to the touch and then I scrub some more.

I stand under the water until it turns cold and then I will myself to turn it off and step out. I'm standing there, a hand on either side of the sink to hold myself up, and staring into the mirror. I don't recognize the woman staring back at me—much like I didn't recognize the woman who had just touched me. I turn my head to the side and take stock of the harsh, dark bite mark that she left on my skin. I want so badly to cry, but I don't want to give into the overwhelming emotions that are coursing through me.

I feel so many things on a countless number of levels. I'm angry that Sara would force herself on me like she did. I'm pissed that I wasn't strong enough to fight back. I'm livid that I gave up so easily and let her do what she did. I'm irritated that there's this part of me that wants to rationalize her behavior when there's nothing that justifies it or my passivity. And I'm scared that if it happens again, I won't be able to fight it—to fight her—not when her need is so….desperate. When it comes to Sara, the one thing I'm most scared of is my own weakness.

I wrap the towel around me, intent on walking to my room and going to bed. Once I open the door to the bedroom and step into it, I can hear Sara gently crying. As my eyes adjust to the darkness of the room, I can make out her naked form lying on the bed. She looks almost childlike with her slight frame drawn into the fetal position.

I stand there fighting the urge to go to her. I want to take her in my arms, but thinking about what just happened in the shower stops me in my tracks. Weak. That's what Sara makes me. I take a few more steps toward the door of her room so that I can leave when a single hushed word makes it way to my ears.

"Why?"

My resolve is broken and my temporary walls tumble down. "Why what, Sara?"

My question is met with nothing other than silence. I turn back toward the door to leave when her voice stops me again. "Why him?" As the last word escapes her, she is shaking with shuddering sobs.

The fragile tone of her voice is my undoing. I crawl up beside her on the bed and wrap my arms around her.

"I don't know. I don't know why this happened, baby. It's not much, but I'm here—here for you," I offer.

"It's my fault," she says through her tears. "If it wasn't for me, none of this would be happening."

"First of all, this is not your fault. Second of all, you don't know that this is connected to the serial killer." Even I don't believe what I'm saying to her. I know just as well as she does that Aaron didn't kill himself.

"There are no coincidences, Cath. If it walks like a duck, quacks like a duck and looks like a duck, it's a duck. Aaron didn't kill himself. He was killed because of his connection to me. And this only proves that you're in danger—real danger—just by being here—just by being connected to me."

In spite of the seriousness of the situation, I smile at her duck analogy.

"You find something about this funny?" she says as she wipes at her eyes. "I don't find any levity in my brother's murder or the possibility of you being next."

"No, there's nothing funny about the situation. It was just your choice of ducks for the analogy. I just associated it with that supervisor I shared an office with—she put ducks everywhere." I run my hands up and down her back as she moves close enough to me to bury her face in the crook my neck.

"This just all seems so surreal, Cath. Oh my god," she says as pulls herself free of my embrace, "I need to call Dennis. The boys are with him and Jane."

I put my arms back around her and pull her back down on the bed. "Sar, Liam was going to call so that you didn't have to deal with this right now."

"It's not his responsibility. It's mine. He was my brother," her voice is ringing with annoyance.

Once again, she tries to pull free. I only tighten my grip on her. "I know Aaron was your brother. And I know you feel responsible, but let Liam deal with this. He owes you that much."

Sara lifts her face to look at me. In the darkness I can barely make out her features. I wish there was enough light in the room for me to see her eyes so that I could see what she was thinking right now. I lift my hand to her face and cup her cheek before closing the distance and brushing my lips against hers.

This kiss is different from any other kiss we've ever shared. There's an emotion here that's never existed—one that I can't quite name because I've never felt it before. The only thing that comes close in comparison is how I felt when I held Lindsey for the first time.

Sara shifts her weight, forcing the kiss to last longer than I intended. I pull back and she attempts to follow me, wanting and needing more contact. I brace my hand firmly against her shoulder and apply just enough pressure to get her to stop. Even in the dim lighting of the room, I can make out the desperation in her eyes.

"Cath, please." She breathes my name, but doesn't press.

My hand moves from her shoulder and moves along her neck to her jaw. She leans into my touch and closes her eyes.

"Open your eyes," I beg of her. She hesitates and then opens them. We stare into each other's eyes and bare our souls to one another. I lift slightly to make contact with her lips again, slowly and languidly taking her bottom lip between mine and gently sucking as I run my tongue along it. She reciprocates, sucking on my top lip. My hand moves to the back of her head and I idly run my fingers through her hair.

I pull back from the kiss again and hold her face in my hands. I search her eyes for something, and when I see it, I smile. "I love you." There's a confident and unyielding tone in my voice that I've never heard.

Tears immediately fill her eyes and threaten to spill over. She chokes back a sob and pulls back from me.

"No, you're not going anywhere," I firmly warn her as I roll over on top of her.

"I love you." I lower my head and find her pulse point, massaging it with my tongue.

"I love you." I move to her earlobe and suck lightly on it.

"I love you," I murmur against her lips.

Once again, I pull back from Sara and I see her for the first time—like this is the first time we've been in this position—the first time I've told her that I love her—the first time I've tasted her skin. In a way, this is the first time. It's the first time I've wanted and needed and desired her knowing everything I know about her. And I want more—more of her. I want to give myself to her completely and have her give of herself totally.

Never taking my eyes from hers, I slide one hand down her side, allowing it to come to rest on her hip. My full weight rests on her and my skin burns everywhere it touches her. Only one thing will quench this fire—making love to Sara.

XXXXX

"_Cath, are you sure you want to do this now?" Sara said as she broke the kiss we had shared for the last several minutes._

_I didn't respond verbally; instead, I grabbed her by the shirt and pulled her closer to me. My fingers fumbled nervously with her buttons._

"_Hey, calm down," she spoke softly. "You can take your time, babe. We have all night. Or we don't have to do anything." She gently placed her hands over mine to still my movements._

_I couldn't help but laugh at the situation out of sheer nervousness. Here I was with Sara—in her apartment—after another one of our dates. I felt like a teenager. I wanted her so badly. I needed her desperately. _

_My need and want were too great. I pushed her forcefully against the wall and gave up trying to gracefully undo her shirt. With a hand on either side of the buttons, I pulled in opposite directions hard, sending buttons careening off the wall, the floor, and the coffee table._

"_I really liked that sh…" Sara found it hard to finish her sentence with my mouth covering hers._

_She brought her hands up to cup my face, but I grabbed them and pushed them roughly against the wall above her head. The sound of her breath hitching turned me on incredibly and only amplified my arousal. _

_I pushed myself against her, forcing my leg between hers and up against her sex. Even through two layers of clothing, I could feel her flaming desire against my thigh. I ran my tongue over my top lip in anticipation. I could clearly picture Sara beneath me writhing in pleasure and uttering my name like a mantra…chanting it like a spell…praying to whatever unseen god who might be listening to deliver her._

_No sooner does this vision enter my mind than I'm snapped back to reality by Sara. "Not like this, Cath." _

_I shake off her words and move in to kiss her as one hand moves down to her thigh, lifting it over my hip. She takes this moment and spins us around so that I find myself pinned against the wall. "I said, not like this, Cath."_

_She takes a step back from me and holds out her hand to me. I look down at it and back up to her face. Her smile puts me at ease and I finally reach out and let her take my hand in hers. Never taking her eyes from mine, we walk in knowing silence to her bedroom._

_Once we enter her bedroom, all of the confidence and zest I had possessed in her living room leaves me. "I don't want our first time to be rushed. I don't want us fucking, Cath. I want to make love to you. I need to make love to you. The only thing desperate about this is how badly I want to show you just how much I love you." _

_It was with those words that I realized just how in love with Sara Sidle I was. And it was in the hours that followed that she showed me how in love with me she was._

XXXXXX

Sara and I have made love innumerable times while we were together, but this is different. At first, it was me exploring her body. I am like the captain of a sea-faring vessel venturing into unmapped waters. Each touch…every stroke…each taste…every response…I can't wrap my mind around everything I'm feeling. It's more intense and more passionate than anything I remember with her.

I keep coming back to the same description—that it's like I'm with Sara for the first time.

I roll onto my side so that we're facing each other. Our languorous kisses deepen and our hands begin to move over each other's bodies in a familiar dance. She brings her hand to my lips and I suck one of her fingers into my mouth, running my tongue along the length of it. Mimicking her movements, I bring my fingers to her lips and she kisses the tip of every finger before kissing my palm.

She pulls her finger free of the wet cavern that is my mouth and moves forward assaulting me with a feverish kiss that sends my senses into a tailspin. At the same time, our hands move lower on each other's bodies. The intensity of our lovemaking is too much for me to take, and I break the kiss, but not our physical connection. With labored breathing, we stare into each other's eyes intently. Each breath and every slight caress of each other's most intimate places brings us closer together. No words are spoken or needed as we near the apex of our joining. As if our fuses had been lit simultaneously, we climax together.

Our bodies are a tangled mess of sweaty limbs as we cling to one another. The only sound is that of pounding hearts and heavy breathing.

"Sar?" I say her name tenderly.

"Mmmhmm?"

I'm about to put myself out there and I won't blame her one bit if….

"I don't want to go another day without you. I need you. I need us. And I know the timing really sucks, but, well, there is no but. I love you. I never stopped loving you. I've made some mistakes—lots of mistakes. But the biggest one would be spending another day without you."

She pulls back from me and the expression on her face changes. The passion and desire that had been there is replaced with anger and confusion. She sits up and turns her back to me.

Her voice is even and her tone is angry, but controlled. "You slept with Ramirez. You didn't trust me. You believed everything that was said about me. You…you fucked Ramirez. You broke my heart, Cath. And my brother was just killed," she stands up from the bed and walks toward the window, her back still to me. "He was just murdered and you come in here and you tell me you love me…that you need me…that you want to be with me."

"Sara, I…" she puts up her hand and I immediately shut up.

"You're right. You have made some mistakes," her back is still to me, so I can't read her expression or figure out what she's thinking. "The least of which was fucking Ramirez. I don't understand how you could let that woman put her hands on you. How you could…you know what, it doesn't matter. It's over and done with. You can't change what you did."

I find my voice and decide to defend myself. "Sara, let's not forget that you had a girlfriend. Remember her? You were sleeping with her. How is that so different from me sleeping with someone?"

Sara turns around, her arms crossed over her bare chest protectively, and the tears flowing down her cheeks. "I didn't sleep with Adin to hurt you. The only reason you slept with Ramirez was to hurt me. That's the difference."

She crosses the room and sits back down the bed. "When you broke up with me, you devastated me. I wanted to die. I wanted to give up. I had wrapped all of my hopes and plans for the future up in you…in us. But I understood on some level why you did it. I didn't like it, but I understood it."

I reach out to touch her, but she flinches at my touch. "Sara, please. If you want me to beg, I will," I crawl out of the bed and immediately move to the floor in front of her on my knees. "See, here I am…begging. I love you. Please, forgive me. Give me…give us…another chance."

"Get off of your knees," she says to me as she holds her hand out to me. As she pulls me up, she stands and pulls me against her. "I love you, Cath. I never stopped loving you. But I don't want to lose you. You have to leave. Go back to Vegas. Once I'm done here, I'll come back and we can start again. But I'm afraid if you don't leave, something is going to happen. And baby," she lifts my chin to look me in the eyes, "if something happened to you, I don't think I could go on living. Being apart from you is one thing, but…" She chokes back a sob.

"Is this really what you want? For me to leave? I really think you need me here right now, Sara."

"I can't do what needs to be done if you're here. I'll be worried about you instead of focused on finding the killer."

On one hand I can understand Sara's concerns. But on the other, she's going through a lot right now and if the shoe was on the other foot, I know she'd insist on being there for me.

"I don't want to leave you. I don't want you here alone. If I'm here, I can protect you. We can look out for each other," I offer.

She goes to speak, but the ringing of her phone interrupts her. She reaches for her phone and flips it open. "Sidle…Yes…I know her…How?...When?...Where?...Yes, thank you."

I'm only privy to her end of the conversation, but from the look on her face, I can tell that the news isn't good. She shuts her phone and stands frozen in place for a moment.

"Sara?" She turns around and looks at me blankly. "What's wrong, babe?"

She moves toward the dresser in the room and starts taking out clothes and pulling them on.

"Sara, tell me what's wrong. Who was that on the phone?"

She sits on the edge of the bed and starts putting on her boots. "That was Liam. He got a call from a detective in Barstow. They found Adin's body this morning."

"Sara," I sit down beside her and put my arm around her shoulders. "I'm sorry, babe."

She covers her face with her hands and takes a few deep breaths. "This just proves I'm right. You have to get out of here. There's only one woman left—you."

She pushes past me and leaves her room. I know where she's going. She's going to pack my things and send me away. Resigned, I follow her.

She's tossing my clothes haphazardly into my suitcase. "At least fold my things before you throw them in the bag." I chide her as I take the clothes out that she's tossing in and fold them carefully.

She doesn't look up—she's focused on what she's doing. "You'll buy a ticket at the airport. This way no one has time to do anything before you get on the flight. Once you get to Vegas, get Brass to give you a detail. I hate to admit it, but I'd feel a lot better if Sofia has your back. I know she won't let anything happen to you. Don't work in the field. I know Griss won't give you more time off, but at least make him keep you in the lab. The less you're out in the open, the fewer chances there are of something happening to you."

I don't think she took a single breath while she was rattling off her directions. I take the time to grab some of the clothes she's throwing in my bag and put them on. I like being naked—but not when I'm the only one.

"Stay with Nancy or get Lilly to stay with you. There's safety in numbers. I know you wouldn't dream of letting Linds miss school, but she's in as much danger as you are. If at all possible, don't send her to school. Don't open the door if anyone knocks on it unless you know them. If something happens while you're driving, don't get out of the car. If a cop pulls you over, call Brass and confirm that it's one of our guys pulling you over. You have to be extra…"

I grab her by the wrist and pull her towards me. "I'll be fine, Sara. Nothing is going to happen to me. It's you that I'm worried about." I fight hard to keep the tears at bay. Here she is worrying about me, but from where I sit, her life is in just as much danger as mine.

"Cath, nothing is going to happen to me. The killer is eliminating the people I've been close to. If he had wanted me dead, he'd have killed me a long time ago. There have been so many opportunities, and yet, none have been taken."

An hour later, I find myself standing in front of a very rude woman who's trying to convince me that I need a first class ticket to fly to Vegas. Sara couldn't come in with me because a meeting had been called at headquarters and she didn't want to miss it. After haggling with the bitch behind the counter, I finally get a ticket. Unfortunately, I'm going to have to wait nearly two hours for my flight.

XXXXXXX

I'm sitting there flipping through a magazine I picked up in one of the airport stores when out of the corner of my eye I notice a man dressed in a security guard's uniform approaching me. Sara's warnings immediately surface.

"Excuse me," he says in a firm voice. "Are you Catherine Willows?"

I'm hesitant to answer. Is this for real or part of the killer's scheme? Then again, there's no way that the killer would know that I'm waiting on a flight. But, the killer has managed to elude the authorities for the longest time.

"Are you Catherine Willows?" he asks again, obviously annoyed that I failed to answer the first time he asked the question.

"Yes, I'm Catherine Willows."

"Excellent. There's an emergency phone call for you—an FBI agent by the name of Ramirez. If you'll follow me, I'll show you where you can take the call."

I follow the stocky security guard to one of the airline counters. He speaks to the woman behind the counter and before I know it, a phone is being extended in my direction.

"Willows."

"_Catherine, Ms. Sidle never made it to the meeting at headquarters. We tried her phone several times, but she never answered. We were able to run a trace on it and…"_

"Wait…what? What are you saying?" My mind was swimming with images of an injured Sara.

"_She's okay, Catherine. We were able to run a trace on the GPS chip in her phone. We found her, but she's banged up pretty good. She's asking for you. I'll swing by and pick you up and take you her."_

"No, that's okay. What hospital is she in? I'll call a taxi."

"_Nonsense, Catherine. I'm already here. Just come out front. I'll make sure you get there."_

I think about the situation for a moment before making a decision that I'm certain I'll come to regret later. If I ignore the situation and still get on the plane and Sara really was injured, I'll never forgive myself. If I don't get on the plane and go with Ramirez and this turns out to be a trap, I'll have let Sara down. Hell, either way I'll be letting Sara down.

"Fine, I'll be out front in a few minutes."

XXXXXX

"What hospital did you say she was in?" I'm starting to grow suspicious of Sara's accident. As unfamiliar as I am with this town and the surrounding area, I'm certain that we're heading away from any hospitals.

"Mac, seriously, what hospital is Sara in?" I'm paying close attention to the surroundings. "Where did you find her?"

Just as I turn to face her again, I catch a sudden movement out of the corner of my eye as Ramriez extends her arm in my direction. I feel something make contact with my neck. In the next instant, it feels like a million needles are being forced under my skin. Everything turns black.

XXXXXX

I'm lying on a cement floor when I start to regain my senses. Actually, it wasn't so much me regaining my senses as it was someone pouring water on me that brought me to.

"I thought I made myself clear. I wanted her brought to me in pristine condition. And instead, you've brought me damaged goods. This is not good, MacKenzie." Through the haze that's still clouding my brain I can't make out who the man is that's speaking.

"I'm sorry," Ramirez says. "She was getting suspicious. She kept asking about her. I wasn't sure how long I could stall on answering her questions. It's just a couple of marks on her neck. Other than that, she's in perfect condition. She can still be your masterpiece."

"My masterpiece? She's flawed. She's marked. A masterpiece cannot have any flaws. You're useless. You have ruined this completely," the man's voice bellows throughout the room. From the echo, I can only guess that I'm in a warehouse of sorts.

I hear the familiar click of a slide being drawn back on a gun and then the resonating sound of a gunshot. This is followed by a body falling onto the floor beside me. It's the body of Agent Ramirez.

It's in this instant that I realize I am unable to move. My panic and fear increase exponentially as I see the dead agent's blood oozing across the floor, inching closer and closer to me. I notice MacKenzie's still open eyes staring lifelessly across the pool of red at me.

A gun is tossed down on her body. Because I'm lying on my side, I'm unable to see all of my surroundings. The room starts to move and the distance between me and the blood pool is increasing. I can only assume that I'm being dragged away.

Suddenly the room stops moving and I deduce that my captor has moved me to where he wants me. I've still yet to see his face and I don't recognize his voice.

"My dear, dear Catherine. I feel like I know you," he speaks softly. The lilt in his voice hints at him being highly educated.

"I'm sorry we have to meet under such…despicable…circumstances. Oh, I must apologize for your inability to move. Unlike my barbaric friend Ramirez, I didn't want to subdue you with a stun gun. Instead, I opted for pancuronium bromide. As a crime scene investigator, I'm certain that you're familiar with this drug. It induces muscle paralysis. As a matter of fact, I believe you've seen it used before—at an execution."

I can hear him pacing behind me—his heels clicking on the floor.

"I'm neither sick nor psychotic. Before we continue, I want you to know that it is only out of love that I do this. You see, you hurt someone very dear to me. Someone that I would do anything for. Someone that I would sacrifice everything for. And yet you—you who held her happiness in your hands—you so heartlessly crushed her."

I try to move my mouth to ask a question, but I can't. This is pure torture. I'm painfully aware of my surroundings. I can see, smell and hear everything. I can feel things. But I'm unable to move.

"Oh, Catherine, I'm sorry. See you can't move or talk. So you'll just have to listen. Perhaps had you done more listening, you wouldn't be in this situation now."

I hear a chair being dragged across the floor and sat down beside me. The voice takes a seat and with his foot, he rolls me onto my back. He leans over and looks down at me. "You see," he says, "no one hurts Sara and lives to tell about it."

IMMI: I hope part of this made you happy ;-)


	27. Chapter 27

**Thanks for your reviews - especially yours Immi ;) (I had to read it twice to make sure I was not imagining things :P)****. Well, let's see if Sara will save the day...**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

* * *

**Chapter 27: Sara**

Catherine and I are standing in the airport. We're going to buy her a ticket back to Vegas. Things are getting too dangerous, and she's a dead woman walking as long as she's near me. I can't afford to lose her, not now that I have her back in my life. I can't afford to lose anyone else.

"I want you to call me every two hours. I made sure that Sofia would pick you up once you get there…"

"Babe…" I barely register the fact that Catherine's calling me and keep on giving her directions.

"Don't go out by yourself, never….don't stay on your own either. I want someone with you every second of the day, don't trust anyone you don't know…

"Babe…"

"I'm going to call Brass so you have extra protection until this case is solved. I'll tell Grissom not to send you on the field…"

"Sara, stop!" she says forcefully grabbing my face between her hands. "Baby, you have my word I'll be careful," she says forcing me to look into her eyes.

We stare silently at each other. I can see in her eyes that she's asking me to trust her. I can also see a twinge of fear darkening her features. "I'm scared to lose you," I confess her. "I'm scared to death to lose you," I repeat in a whisper. She sighs and takes me in her arms. We hold onto each other in a fierce embrace. "If anything happens to you…"

"Nothing is going to happen to me," she tries to reassure me. One of her hands is caressing the back of my neck.

My cell phone rings and I pull back a little, not breaking the contact though. "Sidle," I answer before listening to the caller. I sigh. "I'm on my way," I say before hanging up. I turn back to Cath. "There's a meeting in 20 minutes," I tell her. I'm reluctant to leave her here on her own while she waits for her flight.

She makes me look at her. "I'll be fine, go," she says as if she had read my mind. I'm about to protest, but she puts two fingers on my lips.

I sigh in resignation and hold her tight to me. "I love you," I tell her.

"You have to promise me something," she cups my face again. Once she's sure she has my full attention, she continues, "Promise me not to do anything stupid. Don't go playing hero or kamikaze, 'cause I don't want anything happening to you."

She kisses me deeply. Some of the desperation we felt earlier comes back as we deepen the kiss not caring about the world around us. Once we pull back to breathe we're both panting. She rests her forehead against mine. "I love you too, and you better bring your ass back home to me in one piece or I'll be mad," I can't help but chuckle at her threat.

"I promise," I tell her with heartfelt truth. She brushes her lips against mine again."Go," she orders me gently.

I pull back completely and immediately feel the loss. Our eyes silently tell what our hearts are screaming. I turn around and go not looking back, knowing full well that if I did, I'd never leave her.

I get in my car and start to drive back to the lab. My mind wanders to the last few hours. I've been going from one extreme to another. First I found Aaron's lifeless body hanging from the ceiling in a warehouse. Everything points to a suicide. But I know that it's a murder, I knew my brother and I know that he would never have committed suicide. There was a time when it would have been possible, but if there's one thing I know, it's that he loved his sons more than life itself. Even if he was eaten alive by despair he would have kept on living just for them.

I temporarily lost sanity in the next moment. I stopped feeling anything, pain was smothering my heart and I felt empty. The first time Cath tried to comfort me, I let my rage and pain spill, losing the control of myself and taking it out on her, attacking her. I snapped back into reality when I registered that I was forcing myself on her.

She could have given up on me. She should have. But she didn't. Instead she held me so I wouldn't shatter into a million pieces. Then she made love to me. No, that's not true, making love doesn't even start to cover what we experienced. It was intense, deep, desperate, raw, indescribable love. It was like nothing we had known before. For one precious moment, we truly were one, like our souls had been melded together in perfect symbiosis.

She offered me her heart again. Losing everyone who had ever meant something to me made me realize that I couldn't let go of Cath out of pride or stubbornness. I never loved anyone like I love her and I won't blow the chance she's offering me, just like I can't let anything happen to her.

When Liam called me to inform me that they had found Adin's body in Barstow, I knew that it was time for Catherine to get the hell out of here, that's why I'm sending her back to Vegas and made all the calls I had to in order to assure her protection as much as humanly possible.

xxxxx

I arrive at the lab 25 minutes after leaving Catherine at the airport. I go straight to the meeting room and am surprised to find it empty. I make a quick look around the lab and don't find any meeting anywhere. There are only lab techs working on their tasks and agents supervising them or just doing what they are supposed to do.

Something's wrong with this picture.

Maybe I didn't understand the indications properly. Maybe there's another scene that I haven't been told about.

"We need to talk," I hear someone saying as I feel my arm being gripped firmly. I turn and find Flash dragging me in a secluded lab.

"Let me go," I say pulling my arm away from his grip. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" I ask.

"Someone's been stalking me. My house has been trashed and my lab almost completely destroyed." he says hastily.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, but I don't think I'll leave the lab for a while," he replies. "But that's not the point right now. Whoever did this only took one thing, the shirt you gave me. They smashed everything but they just took the shirt, nothing else and there was some money in plain view as well as some stuff that was worth more than my house itself."

"Damn it! This shirt was our only tangible evidence!! The last DNA was our only lead! We're screwed!" I exclaimed with frustration.

"Maybe not," he says with a little smile. I look at him puzzled. "I always take two samples. One I leave in my lab and then destroy, the other I keep in my safe…just in case."

"My opinion of you just increased exponentially, boy," I reply with a feral smile.

"I managed to separate the last DNA, all that's left to do is for me to run it through CODIS."

"Excellent, where's your safe?"

"At my place, so I was thinking that we could go there now so you can…protect me," he confesses. "You know how good I am with guns," he jokes.

"Okay, let's go then," I tell him as we exit the lab. "Tell me, have you heard anything about a meeting today?" I ask as I remember why I'm here in the first place.

"Nope, why?"

"Nothing."

I don't like how things are turning out.

xxxxx

About 20 minutes later, we're in front of Flash's house. I go inside first with my gun in hand. He's following me closely and gives me directions so I can check the place first. The house is upside down, but it seems empty.

We go to his lab downstairs. He moves one of his desks away from the wall and then bends down to remove a tile off the floor. He opens the door of the safe that is there and removes an item before reaching for a vial. "Okay, got it. Let's get out of here," he says has he puts everything back in its place.

"Do you realize that you'll get caught if you run the CODIS at the lab?" I ask him.

"I know, but I'm thinking that we have the critical evidence, otherwise I don't see why someone would want that shirt. The killer knows we're after him and that we're close to finding his identity. Seeing the situation, I don't think that hiding is useful anymore. Plus it'll be safer at the lab and it's our last resort."

We drive back at the lab and he finds a secluded room to start searching for a DNA match. He makes some manipulations which obviously aren't supposed to be made. "I'm trying to cover my tracks as much as possible, it won't last but it should give me 40 minutes in case someone is tracing me."

"You're a stud," I tease him.

He doesn't tear his eyes away from the screen and seems to be in great concentration. "So tell me, am I as good as the Sanders dude?" he asks with a smug smile on his face.

"You will be once I'll get this DNA, although you're very close," I reply with a smile.

"Translation, I'm good and you know it babe," he shoots back.

I chuckle, "Touché."

My phone rings and I pick I up, "Sidle."

"_Where the fuck are you?"_

"Spencer?"

"_No, Santa Claus. Who were you expecting?"_ he replies annoyingly.

"Definitely not you. Plus I believe I should be the one asking you where you are."

"_I'm freezing my ass off at your front doo__r waiting for you to show up!" _he spits.

"How am I supposed to know you're waiting for me?"

"_Because Liam said you'd be waiting for us here, and now I don't see any of you. Can you both stop messing around?!"_ he replies.

"I didn't…" I start to say but then something hits me. "Did someone follow you? Are you alone?"

"_I'm alone and I don't think anyone followed me. Why do you ask? What's going on?"_

"Don't move I'm coming," I say urgently. "And watch your back," I say before hanging up. I turn to Flash, who's still making changes on the computer.

"You have to go?"

"Yeah, don't stay on your own okay? Find someone you trust and stay with them," I tell him.

"Don't worry about me, I don't think I'm the target," he answers. "I mean the killer had many chances to get me, he didn't, that should say something," he turns to me and smiles. "Now go, I'll call you in a few with results babe," he winks at me seductively. I'm sure Greg and him share some DNA, that's the only explanation.

I get out of the lab and go to the town house. Spencer is sitting on the stairs of the porch. I go straight to the door, passing him without a word. I open the door and turn to him. "Get in," I order him without animosity. Call me paranoid, but I'd rather be overly cautious than not enough. Someone might be out there watching us, listening to us. We don't know and I'm not going to run the risk.

Once we're inside I close the door behind us. "What the hell is going on?" Spencer repeats his previous question.

"Beats me. I had a phone call from Agent Roberts saying that Liam was calling a meeting. Imagine my surprise when I arrived at the lab and found no one. Then you called me."

"This is weird," Spencer frowns.

"No shit," I reply flatly.

My mind is on overload. We both received a phone call with false indications, yet with one common factor: Liam. Add to this all the details Cath and I found and it makes Liam look more than suspicious.

"I'm sorry about Aaron," Spencer says out of the blue. I snap my head in his direction feeling unconcealed rage invading me again.

"So sorry you couldn't even give me a warning. I knew you could be a world class prick but that…that was worse than anything you've ever done. I know you and Aaron didn't get along, but I would have hoped you had enough respect toward him and I to tell me something like this."

"Sara, I didn't know, I swear. Liam called me, he said that an agent had found another body in a warehouse and that I should check to see if it might have been another victim of the killer. I arrived on the scene a few minutes before you got there. Since Liam had gone to Barstow I was left to supervise everything and I hadn't gone inside when you arrived. I was busy giving direction to agents to take the perimeter and look for evidence. I only went in when I saw you coming out. By the time I came back out, you and your friend had disappeared. Trust me when I say I'm sorry. Just because Aaron and I didn't get along doesn't mean I don't care. I would have told you the news myself had I know that he was the one inside," he tells me honestly.

I'm scrutinizing him to see if he's lying to me or not. He might have been there, but the scene is a blurry memory. I just remember the vision of horror and what happened when Cath and I went back to the house. His expression is serious and I can see that he's silently begging me to believe him. I don't think he's lying or if he is, he has a great poker face.

Now that I think about it, something catches my attention. "Wait a minute. You said Liam went to Barstow. Why did he go there?"

"How should I know? Who do you think I am? His baby sitter? He just said that there might be a lead there, and that he was going to check by himself, that there was no need to send a whole team there if the lead turned to be dead."

I feel dizzy, this is too many information to take in. Liam called me to tell me that someone had found Adin's body in Barstow. But who knows? What tells me that he's not the one who put her there? He was the only one to know about her. I mean we had lunch back in Vegas before coming here, and Adin was leaving he arrived at my place. I didn't give him her name, but…

"What are you thinking?" Spencer asks me.

"My ex-girlfriend's body was found in Barstow."

"You're serious? Wait, wait, you're not thinking…" he trails off not voicing out my idea.

"I don't know, Spence. I mean think about it. How did he know about Aaron's body in the warehouse? The killer always acts in the open, in plain view of everyone. The warehouse is in an almost deserted neighborhood, so I doubt anyone would have called the authorities. Then he went to Barstow, although when he called me he said that a detective from there had called him a few minutes ago. There's something wrong with this picture."

"Admittedly something is off…You don't seriously think….I mean… Liam?" he says in disbelief.

"I'm just stating the facts here. It could be an odd coincidence, but my job taught me that there's seldom such a thing as a coincidence."

"What I don't get is why Liam would do something like that," Spencer muses.

"Maybe because it's not his first time."

Spencer frowns at me, "Elaborate."

"Ronald had an accomplice. In light of the last few things that have happened, I'd say that Liam looks like a good candidate."

Spencer's reply is cut off by my cell phone. "Sidle," I answer.

"_It's Flash, you won't believe what I'm about to tell you_…" he starts, I can hear in his voice that he's panicked.

There's a sound coming from the corridor though and Spencer and I look at each other, thinking the same thing. "Hold on a sec," I tell Flash absentmindedly.

"_No, I can't hold on you have__ to hear me out. It's…"_

"Just hold a sec, okay?!" I snap in a low tone. Putting my arm down and reaching for my gun. I can hear tiny sounds still coming from my phone, I suppose that Flash isn't familiar with the notion of waiting.

Spencer is holding his gun as well. He signals that he's going to check what's going and that I have to watch his back from where I am, and then he motions me to stay silent before going down the dark corridor, moving with cautious steps. Another sound comes from upstairs. I raise my gun in the direction of the sound. My heart is beating frantically, I can feel cold sweat pearling on my forehead. My breathing is shallow and all my senses are on overload.

I barely have time to climb the first two steps before I hear a moan and a loud thud coming from the corridor.

Shit.

I turn around and face the corridor. I can barely make anything out of the darkness. I frown, as if somehow it would activate my 'night vision', but it's in vain. I progress slowly in the direction of the sound. As I get deeper down the corridor, I see an inanimate hand on the floor coming out of the door of the conference room. "Spence," I breathe out.

I take one more step and then feel a burning sting in my neck. "Ugh…" I moan in pain.

My vision gets blurry and I feel nauseous as the room starts to spin. I fall on one of my knees. I'm blinking furiously, I try to breathe deep and fight the unconsciousness slowly invading me. I can't fight anymore and feel myself connected with the floor letting my cell phone slide to the floor and loosening my grip on my gun.

"…_Sara!! Did you hear what I said?!!"_ I can hear Flash's voice shouting from my phone. _"The traitor is in our rows!! The last DNA matches…" _

A big booted foot crashes my cell phone killing Flash's last words. I try to move, but my head is heavy and my body doesn't seem to listen to me.

Then everything turns black.

xxxxx

I open my eyes a little, feeling little vibrations all over my body. I'm dizzy and I feel like my head is made of heavy lead. Flashes of light pass me by. I look up and through the blurry veil I manage to realize that I'm in a car. I try to move only to feel vivid pain. I moan a bit.

Damn.

"Not now sweetie," a voice says. In the next second I feel the same burning pain in my neck and darkness envelops me again.

xxxxx

"I think you gave her too much," I hear a distant voice saying.

"Are you inferring that I don't know what I'm doing?" replies another one.

My head is pounding painfully. I feel nauseous. I'm trying to open my eyes, but it seems to be as hard as moving a mountain.

"Is she ready?" the first voice asks.

There's like an echo and it only serves to make me even more nauseous. It's like I am falling. Even without seeing it, I feel the room spinning.

"She's ready and all ears," the second voice replies with amusement.

I try once more to open my eyes but my eyelids are too heavy. My mouth feels like dry cotton. I try to swallow, but I'm dehydrated. I manage to part my lips after a tedious effort and lick them as much as I can. I sigh in pain letting out a faint moan. "Finally, our Sleeping Beauty is coming to," says voice number two. "I'll leave you alone, I'm sure the two of you have a lot to talk about."

There are chuckles and then the sound of steps. "Meanwhile, clean the mess you made with Ramirez," voice number one says firmly. There's no answer, but I hear a door being closed shut.

I feel something or rather someone grabbing my chin gently before feeling cold liquid being poured past my lips. My first reflex is to close the little gap of my lips. But the grip on my jaw tightens, forcing me to open my mouth and swallow the liquid not to drown.

Water.

My body welcomes this little attention. Then drops of water are steadily being poured between my eyes. I feel consciousness striking me back as well as the incommensurable pain. It's like my whole body is made of pins and needles, even breathing is hard.

The grip on my jaw disappears and I hear footsteps going away from me in a slow steady pace.

I try once more to open my eyes and succeed, only to close them again. I slowly blink, my eyes growing accustomed to the dim light of the room.

I'm still not off the dizzy spell and I feel queasy, but at least now I have my eyes open. I start to be aware of my body as well. I try to bring my hand to my neck where I can still feel the remaining pain from earlier. But my movement is being stopped short by something. The metallic sound lets me know that I'm chained to something. I feel a surge of strength coming back to me as I try to pull my hands free. From the immediate pain in my wrists, I'd say that I'm handcuffed. I lift my head up a bit with great difficulty and my eyes confirm my suspicions.

I try to pull my hands free nonetheless.

"Take it easy sunshine," says the voice.

I turn my head back to the sound and only see a shadow sitting on a chair. There's only a bulb lighting the room and whoever it is made sure not to stand in the halo. I can't recognize the voice, at least not yet. My brain is still coming to.

I start to take in my surroundings. I'm beginning to be aware of the cold concrete floor. The handcuffs are wrapped around a water pipe I'd guess, a rusty pipe. I'm sitting but I'm sure that I'm loose enough to stand up, not that it would change anything. There's nothing much that I can see, at least not with the little light provided by the only bulb in the room. Somehow though this room seems oddly familiar to me, it's more like a feeling, like my body knew that I had been here before.

I pull once more on my cuffs, but it's in vain. I can feel the stare of my captor on me, which is more than unsettling since I can't see him.

I pull once more with all my strength and growl in frustration.

"Let me know when you're tired of wasting your energy on nothing," the voice says.

This voice too, sounds familiar to me, but with the echo of the room and the dizzy haze my brain is still swimming in, I can't put my finger on the body this voice belongs to. All I can say right now is that it's a man.

"Are you enjoying yourself asshole?" I spit.

"More than you'll ever know. My life has just reached its apex. I've been watching you, worshiping you, suffering with you. I've been living for you and you only for the last fifteen years. Fifteen years of wait and every damn second of it was worth it. Now you're here and you're mine," he says with satisfaction.

"Why don't you quit being a psycho punk fucker and step into the light so we can talk face to face?" I ask angrily.

I hear a chuckle. "Don't stain such a beautiful mouth with those dirty words."

"Go fuck yourself, how is that?" I reply.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," the voice is low and there's cold anger underlying there. "I still can't believe you're here. I'm so happy, I could die right now."

"Just give me a chance and I'll fix that for you, bastard," I say pulling hard on my restraints.

There's another chuckle. "I've always loved your fiery temper."

I pull again on my chains. My anger has been increasing as my consciousness has been coming back to me. "What do you want from me?"

"Everything. You see, that's the least you owe me for the 15 years of my life that I've lived for you. I want everything from you…Skim."

I freeze. There are only three people who know that particular nickname. One is dead and the other is lying on the conference room floor of the town house.

Liam.

My anger increases tenfold as I realize that I might have been betrayed by the one I always considered a brother.

"I've been suffering with you, watching them hurt you, one after the other. None were worthy of you. So they became my tribute to you," even though I don't see the face, I can hear a smile.

"You're sick!" I exclaim.

"With love, yes," the voice calmly replies. "This was all for you. I wanted to offer you something special and unique. I gave life to your favorite book. Didn't you like it?" asks the voice in disbelief. Liam offered me his copy of Alice. It was an old one, a very old one--the very first edition of the story. Now, I see why Alice.

Alright, if I had any doubt about the mental health of my captor, now I'm fixed. I'm alone, cuffed to a pipe with a serial killer psychopath for sole company. Right, no reason to panic, no reason at all. Somehow I don't feel safe though, go figure.

"Now, it's our time," the voice adds.

"Our time for what?"

"For the masterpiece," another smile. "You're about to witness an artist in progress.This will be my Venus, my Mona Lisa, my Sistine Chapel."

I must find a way to get out of here and fast. Think Sidle, think damn it!!

There's a movement, the shadow stands up and starts to move toward the halo. I recoil immediately, connecting with the wall behind me, as the identity of my captor is revealed. My whole body starts to shake violently.

No way. No freaking way. That's impossible.

"Welcome in Wonderland, Love," he says with a satisfied smile.

"You were lying on the floor in the townhouse! I saw you!!" I protest.

"Wrong, you saw a hand. Liam's hand, whether he's dead or just unconscious though is an answer I don't have," he jokes.

My mind refuses to wrap itself around this new revelation. I can't believe that all this time the answer was right in front of me. I feel dizzy again. "It was you all the time," I state.

"Mmhmm," he hums softly.

"Why?" I ask in a whisper "Why Spencer?" just saying his name burns my tongue.

"Duncan, my name is Duncan," he answers sharply as if I should have known that.

I had heard about people being mad, people who had two different personalities, so different that each personality had a life on its own. I never witnessed it. So either Spencer has a split personality, or his name has always been Duncan, which I doubt.

"Because of you. You've been my obsession. Ever since our kiss," he says absentmindedly answering my previous question.

"Oh brother," I sigh with disbelief. "All of this was for a stupid kiss?!" I ask. I can't believe it. I can't believe so many people died for such a trivial thing, not that there's a good reason to be murdered. "You are really sick!!"

"Not just a kiss. It was like our two souls had been fused for this one heavenly moment. Your burning lips on mine, a perfect, intense, deep and soul melting kiss."

"What the fuck are you talking about?!"

"Oh please don't tell me you don't remember that kiss because I know you do. It was more intense than an earthquake. My heart never beat like that again, I still feel your lips on mine…" there's a soft smile gracing his lips.

Soul melting? Earthquake? We kissed yes but there's a detail he seemed to have forgotten, a rather important one.

"I was trashed!!" I exclaimed. "Do you get it? I was trashed! You could have been anybody!!"

He comes back to the present and looks at me with a dark look, a dark look void of any emotion. Maybe I should have tried diplomacy. "So you say," he says in a creepy voice.

I'm trying to process the new information and some of the timeline is absurd. "I don't get the first victims, we hadn't kissed then, so why? They were a sort of practice run or something?"

"They were mean to you. Those bitches were calling you names, talking behind your back and I couldn't stand it."

My knight in bloody armour. I'm going to be sick.

"Why Aaron?" I finally ask when I overcome my shock state.

Spencer laughs softly, there's a sparkle in his eyes. "I could never stand that prick," he simply says. "I have to say that watching him die was really entertaining," he says with a bright smile. "He kept his mouth shut for 15 years and suddenly he felt the urge to be a hero? I always knew he was stupid, but he beat records there."

"BASTARD!!" I shout pulling really hard on my cuffs several times. "I'll make you pay for this! You bastard!! Son of a bitch, I'll kill you asshole!!" I spit hot tears of rage spilling from my eyes.

"What did I tell you about dirty words?" he says in a threatening tone that makes me shut up in the instant.

I breathe heavily as rage is burning my veins.

"You should thank me. I mean if it wasn't for you his death would have been messier. But I know how much you loved him so I killed him cleanly"

"It wasn't an accident," I start.

"What wasn't?"

"Ron. You pulled the trigger and pressured us into covering for you, saying it was an accident."

"Ron was a rich jerk who thought he could have anything he wanted. He had the means, we had the plans. He was the perfect scapegoat, everyone was ready to kill to be with him. We had fun with the bitches who were disrespecting you and then we prepared them for you."

"That was your blood on the shirt, something went bad one day," I say starting to get things clear.

"It's was my DNA, yes. But it wasn't my blood," he says with a smile. I frown and I'm about to ask what this moron means when another voice startles me.

"The blood was mine," Though I can't see the face who that voice belongs to I can envision a smile on his lips. The voice is deep, but somewhere it reaches the tone of Spencer's.

Spencer turns around. "I thought I told you not to come until I tell you so," he growls.

"I couldn't wait anymore. I had to see her," the voice says with amazement. The second shadow comes into view. He approaches the halo of light and then slowly reveals himself.

This is a nightmare, I'm going to wake up, this is a nightmare, I'm going to wake up, this is a nightmare…

There, just in front of me, stands Spencer number 2. Unless there's been cloning going on, it's Spencer's twin. That explains why Spencer was always clean. He could literally be in two places at the same time. Spencer was with us, and Duncan had all the time to act, drop evidence, kill…Lucky me, two brothers, one exactly as crazy as the other, psychopathic twin. I'll make sure to write a book about that when I get out of this, if I get out. Things are getting better and better.

"I think you already know my brother…Spencer."

No split personality then, just a twin. "Didn't see that one coming, did you….Skim?" the real Spencer smiles from his spot like he had played the best trick of his life. I take a better look at him and notice something I never saw before. He has a faint scar on the left arch of his eyebrows, my guess is that the blood from the shirt came from this wound. Funny how little details escape you when you don't pay close attention.

Duncan crouches in front of me and extends his hand toward my face but doesn't touch me. The heat radiating from his flesh is burning my skin. "So beautiful," he says with a sick smile. "I can't wait," he adds.

He can't wait for what? I so do not like the sound of this.

I can't help but wonder how we failed to notice that Spencer had a twin. I mean it's something you tend to notice. I think that the fact that I was high most of the time we spent together might have helped with this. Although something tells me that no one knows this little fact.

It's well known that in a team there's a dominant and a submissive. Duncan is the dominant and Spencer the submissive, that one is easy to get.

I remember some words they had exchanged when I was still coming to. "What did you do to Ramirez?" I know what you think, I never cared for the bitch. True, and I wanted to kick her ass every second I was in her company, that being said I didn't wish her any real harm.

"She was a pawn in a big plan. She had one mission and she failed it. I taught her never to disappoint me," Duncan says with a smile that only gives me goosebumps.

"What do you want from me?" I ask again.

Duncan comes close to my ear and says, "I've been dying for you, eaten alive by love. I want you to love me. You think you can do that?"

I feel like an army of leeches is on my body, I turn my head suddenly and bite his ear as hard as I can. I feel the bitter taste of iron in my mouth as blood starts to spill from his flesh. I let go immediately then spit out the fluid I have in mouth. He takes a step back and growls. He holds his earlobe and looks at his finger.

I feel a punch in my stomach. Spencer just kicked me. "Bitch!" he says.

Next thing I know, Spencer is on the ground. Duncan gave him a mean hook. He goes to his brother, grabs his lapels and lifts him from the ground. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he asks with a cold, menacing voice.

"She hurt you," Spencer protests.

"You do not touch her, ever," Duncan says firmly. Seems like I'm not the only one afraid of a psychopath because by the looks of it I'd say that Spencer is about to wet his pants. They stare at each other for a minute then Duncan lets him go. He turns back to me. "Somehow I knew you wouldn't be cooperative. I might have something to change your mind though."

Spencer disappears from the halo of light. Then I have to blink as a powerful, crude light shines in the room. Several neon bulbs come to life, surrounding the room and bringing it into clarity, cruel contrast from the little bulb.

That's when I notice it. There's someone sitting in the middle of the room some meters away from me. I don't know the identity of the person since there's a sheet covering her. I start to fear the worse. Their arms are surrounded by a heavy chain.

Spencer walks to a wall and then there's the metallic sound of the chain being pulled and rolling around a pulley resonating in the eerie silence. The arms of the body in the middle of the room start to lift above their head. Then slowly the rest of the body follows until they're standing. It looks like a puppet on loose strings, if it wasn't for the chain, the body would fall back down, which make me wonder if there's still life in this body.

My brain starts to register something. I know those curves, this silhouette. My eyes get as round as saucer plates, oxygen leaves my lungs.

No please, don't let it be…

Duncan watches me panicking with a twisted pleasure. "My very last gift to you," he announces. He moves to the still figure chained to the ceiling. He caresses the sheet slowly and then takes it off.

NO!

It can't be. Catherine is in Vegas right now, she took the plane to Vegas. She promised she would.

I check and double check, but the vision is still here. Catherine is there still as a rock looking at me.

As soon as I see her I stand on my feet. "NO! NO! NO! Let her go!!" I shout at the top of my lungs pulling hard on my cuffs. I turn to the wall, put a foot on it and try to use it a leverage to get myself free. I pull desperately, hurting my wrists, but I can't stop.

She shouldn't be here, she shouldn't be!

Damn it!!

It's my fault.

I start to scream, pulling harder and harder, I see my flesh starting to bleed from the friction but this doesn't stop me. "Don't touch her, let her go, I'll do whatever you want!!"

Tears are falling from my eyes, I'm putting all my energy in trying to get myself free, but it's in vain. I fall on the floor. "I'll do whatever you want, just don't touch her…I'll do whatever you want….but don't touch her…I beg you…" I plead desperately.

Duncan comes to me again and crouches at my level. He takes my chin and makes me look at Cath. "Look at her," he orders me with an even voice. "She can't move nor speak. She's about to die and the only things she's trying to say with her eyes is how desperately she loves you. She loves you even though you're the reason for her being here."

I look at Cath, there are tears in her eyes as well, but except from that she's emotionless. "I'm sorry, Cath. I'm so sorry," I say through my tears.

"I want you to look at me the way she's looking at you right now. I'm not stupid though. I know it won't happen as long as she's breathing. You'll never love me like you two love each other," he continues. He turns my head so I look at him. His deep gaze is scary, there is no emotion in there, only madness. "So I figured, if you can't love me like I love you, you'll suffer like I do," he finishes before kissing me, once more I let my teeth out and bite him.

He grips my throat and squeezes, forcing me to let go. He looks at me in anger, but then smiles. He wipes the blood on his bottom lip with his fingers, then chuckles. "I'm going to make you taste this deep, slow burning pain that has been eating me alive all these years. I want you to suffer so much you'll wish you were dead," he says caressing my face. I spit in his face. He wipes my saliva off his cheek and smiles, looking at me straight in the eyes. He gets close to me again, stopping barely an inch before my lips. I can feel his breath on my flesh, this time he prevents any movement coming from me by holding my chin firmly. He licks the blood off his fingers still looking at me then licks his bottom lip."I want you to know that she's the one who will pay for your mistakes," he says before standing up and turning his back on me.

I look at Cath and see Spencer behind her pushing a tray with sharp objects on it.

"Noooooo!" I scream. But Duncan doesn't turn back, he keeps on walking to Cath. I stand up once more and start to pull on my cuffs again. If I have to eat one of my hands off to get free I'll do it.

I'll do anything, dying from the nine tortures of hell would be sweeter than watching the woman I love being tortured. I could die for her and I will, if it can save her.

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**...uh oh... I guess not then...mouha ha ha ha ha ha...XD... I only have one question now. Scuby, what happens next?**

**Thanks for reading.**


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer: I don't own 'em…**

**A/N: Teaching has kept me busy this year. I have the worst group of students—EVER. Between meeting with parents, social workers, parole officers and working on the yearbook, I've barely had time to read, much less write. I tell ya, muses are a fickle bunch. They up and leave at the most inopportune times.**

**Chapter 28: Catherine**

"Wait," Sara said calmly as Duncan began to lift each implement from the tray, taking obvious delight in the tool he would first use on me.

With a cool and calm demeanor, he didn't even pause as he replied, "Yes, my love? There's something you want?"

Her eyes met mine and I knew she was planning something. "You explained about Aaron and the first girls. But what about the rest?"

His eyes sparkled like those of a six-year old on Christmas morning—or those of a madman. "You know," he said as he took a pair of scissors in his hand and walked behind me, "great art comes from great passion. Each piece is inspired—must be inspired. The process behind each work of art is as unique as the piece itself."

He ran his hands over me before I felt the coldness of a steel-blade against my back. I could both feel and hear the scissoring motion against my spine. "You'll get to see me render this filthy whore into my greatest masterpiece. I normally don't discuss how I work, but since it's you that's asking," his voice trails off. I easily take note of the smile and glee I hear in his voice.

"Why don't we start with Adin. Why her?" Sara queried our captor.

"Ah, your rocket scientist. She was a particular challenge—smart, feisty, attractive, and incredibly strong. She put up more of an initial fight than any of the others."

"But why did you choose her?" There was an insistence in Sara's voice. "She hadn't wronged me in any way. As a matter of fact, the only harm done was done to her…by me."

Duncan moved in front of me and winked at me before cutting from the neck of shirt to the end of the sleeve on each arm. The shirt I had been wearing when Sara left me at the airport now lay in three pieces at my immobile feet.

"Oh, but she had, my love. You made your intentions known and very clear. Only your genius believed that if she hung around long enough and pressured you enough, you'd succumb and want to truly be with her. If only she had respected the carnal nature of your…relationship." The last word rolled off of his tongue and swept over my exposed torso like acid.

"But I ended things with her. I'm the one who hurt her," Sara vainly explained. "You could have let her live."

Duncan picked up a syringe and looked at Sara. "You know, I put the others completely under when I did my work. There was no challenge in that," he put the syringe back down. "I think we'll just let her paralysis wear off. I want both of you to experience this completely."

He pulled heavily on the chain that held me and brought me several inches off of the floor—my feet helplessly dangling. Then he put the chair I had been propped in directly in front of me and sat down in it. Playfully, he lifted a leg and pressed firmly against my thighs, leaving me to dangle and rock back and forth in my suspended state. I was being pushed like a small child on a playground swing. His smile was unmistakable.

Sara's voice interrupted his playfulness. "Just what did you do to Adin? I didn't have an opportunity to admire your _handiwork_."

He gave me one final shove and stood up, walking toward Sara. "So you want a step-by-step of what I did to your former fuck buddy?"

His words made me inwardly cringe since I was unable to actually move my muscles and visibly cringe.

The tone in Sara's voice changed. Instead of being hostile and laden with anger, it was softer and had a hint of sexiness in it. "Well, if you're really doing this for me, I would think that you'd want to share the details with me."

A part of me is really glad that Sara is keeping this Duncan character busy talking and reliving his crimes. Another part of me, however, really doesn't want to know step by step, detail by gruesome detail what he did to those other people because I know that he has that and so much more planned for me.

"As I said, she was the feistiest of all, putting up a valiant fight. Futile, but valiant nonetheless. I sent her a message," he turned his back to Sara and walked back toward me. "Or I should say you sent her a message. You begged her to meet you. And she's so love-struck by you that she didn't hesitate. She just showed up."

He moved in front of me and started to undo my belt.

"Duncan," Sara called out to him. "Leave Catherine alone for the time being. Finish explaining to me what you did to Adin."

Duncan eyed me lecherously. He looked at his hands on my belt and then back to Sara before finally stepping away.

"As you wish," he crossed the room back to Sara and stood behind her. One hand firmly on her waist, the other moved up and down her arm. I couldn't help but notice the space between their bodies growing less and less defined.

"When she entered the hotel room that was rented in your name, she was surprised to find me there instead of you. She was polite, insisting that she must have the wrong room. When she tried to leave, I blocked her egress. An argument ensued and eventually turned physical. I must admit, her military training leant her moves that I had not encountered in any of my other works of art. The great equalizer was the pancuronium bromide. Works almost immediately. I have to tell you, nothing is quite as thrilling as watching someone go limp and just collapse to the floor. You can see the wheels turning in their head, trying to figure out what just happened to them. They can feel and they can hear, but they can't respond physically. I seriously owe whoever devised this delicious concoction a debt of gratitude. I would have never been able to complete any of my works of art without the help of that drug."

"She was particularly amusing. I stood there and watched her for several minutes before moving ahead with my art project. I won't bore you with tiresome and ineffectual details. I'll just gloss over the niceties of my project and give you the basics. She wasn't quite tall enough, so I 'elongated' her. I wasn't quite satisfied with her looks either. So there was a little 'reconstruction' that took place. She, of course, was merely an afterthought. She wasn't on my radar for the longest time. But I needed one last canvas to practice on before working on my masterpiece. I must add that you do have excellent sexual tastes. Her body was tight and tone and very enjoyable. Every single one of them was a buildup to this one," he pointed in my direction.

"Ironic, don't you think? That you would spend your entire life never thinking about me but I've obsessed about you every day. Oh, I know this one here is your current love, but I remember when you found your first love," a look of reflection paints his face. "Ah, sweet Melissa. She was rather scrumptious, wasn't she? You were quite taken with her. Watching the two of you steal glances when you thought no one was looking," he brings his fingertips together as if he's weighing a decision, "well, let's just say it was disappointing. It would be less than honest of me to say that it was anything other than incredibly arousing. But like all those others that followed, she didn't really deserve you."

"We were teenagers. She was the first person who ever truly cared for me. She was the first person I had a serious relationship with," Sara interjects. "There was no need for you to hurt her. She was married. She had children."

He quickly walked towards Sara with his hand back, as if he was going to strike her. She flinched slightly as he got closer. Only he dropped his hand at the last second and affectionately caressed her cheek. She jerked back as far as her restraints would allow her. "Don't you see? That's why it had to be done. Her heart was never really in it when she was with you. And this one," he turned around and set his sights on me, "she's just like her."

He moved back toward the table with all of the implements of torture he had used on his victims. He chose a small scalpel and held it toward the light, allowing it catch and scatter the rays in a reflection on the ceiling of the room we were in. Inside, I was screaming. Outside, there was nothing I could do.

He pressed the scalpel delicately against the skin over my left breast.

"Don't," Sara whispered.

"You hear that?" he asks as he slowly cuts a heart shape into my skin over my flesh. "She's begging me not to hurt you. You…You who caused her so much pain. You who broke her heart. You who hurt her. This," he slid the scalpel around his artwork one more time, "is going to be more enjoyable than I had originally thought."

He placed the scalpel back on the tray before twisting me on my chains to face Sara. "See, that wasn't so bad, was it? I'm sure it hurt your precious Mel much more than it hurt this filthy whore. Of course, it could have been the fact that instead of a nice, neat, heart carving, I _neatly _carved hers out of her chest."

Sara recoiled at this information. If he had done things like this to people that Sara had merely been involved with and not in love with, what would the coming hours hold for me?

"How could you? Are you some sick animal?" Sara was becoming more emotionally distraught as our captor revealed what he had done to her previous lovers.

"A sick animal? No, I'm not. But I am sick with love for you. Now, where were we?" He glances up at the ceiling as if lost in thought. "Oh yes, I had nearly forgotten about Kennedy. She was a delicious young thing. You were her little experiment, remember?"

A sadistic smile teased the corners of his mouth. "I had just bought a new set of scalpels when her time ran out. She didn't quite have the fire in the bedroom that your precious Melissa did. Rather boring actually," he laughed. "Of course, I might have given her too much pancuronium. In either event, she just lay there," he turned to face Sara. "Was she like that with you, too?"

All composure lost, Sara yanked hard on her restraints. "Fuck you. Fuck you, you fucking fucker." She continued to struggle, pulling fiercely against the manacles holding her prisoner. Though I couldn't say anything about it, blood was beginning to appear on her wrists from the metal scraping against her skin with each pull.

"Mmmm. So much passion! This one here has that, too." He turned back to me and quickly made short work of my pants, leaving me hanging in only my underwear and bra.

He picked up a scalpel and pressed it just above my knee and slowly drew it across my skin, leaving a crimson trail in its wake. "You see, Kennedy cut you to pieces. Each little kiss, every little claim of affection she made—they were lies. They cut at you until you finally left San Francisco. It was my pleasure to inflict the same pain on her that she inflicted on you."

He twisted me around so that my back was to him and to Sara, the sharp tool still pressed against my skin. Inside, I was crying out in pain. On the outside, Sara was crying for me. With each draw of his blade against my skin, Sara screeched in agony and wrestled with her fetters.

"You see, in some way, each pain that these _people_ visited upon you, I brought back on them—for you."

"But you don't have to do that. I'm fine. I've dealt with each of them in my own personal way," she beseeched through hot tears.

"And poor Kathy. Kathy Woods. You do remember her, don't you?" the tone in his voice was mocking Sara.

"She was Ronald's girlfriend. What did she have to do with me?"

"Oh, she's the one that told all of us about you and Melissa. It's a pity, really. It was after that that your precious Mel started dating that football player, wasn't it? Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. So surely you understand why she harkened to me so much. It was because of her that your little relationship was ripped apart. I just happened to return the favor when I took her apart limb by limb."

He reached over and pulled on my chains, stretching my arms even further above my head, nearly ripping them from their sockets.

A sheepish look appeared on his face and he appeared almost embarrassed, "You have no idea how incredibly messy it is to dissect a human body. Then again, maybe you do. You are a crime scene investigator. A word to the wise, having someone look at you while you lop their arm off can be disconcerting. I'm unwavering when it comes to my work and nothing can deter me. And it's only while the first one is being removed that they look at you. They quickly pass out from blood loss."

"Let's see, who am I missing?" He stood there tapping his fingertips against each other as he pondered which heinous murder he had yet to reveal the details about.

"The first one when we arrived here. Mandy Braxton. I didn't know a Mandy Braxton. Who was she? How was she connected to me?"

He giggled with delight. "Oh, you are correct. You never knew a Mandy Braxton, but you did know a Maxton Brandy. _**He**_ was the man you slept with in college—during your experimental phase—who never called you back. He had a sex change operation six years ago and changed his name to Mandy Braxton."

There was a part of me that couldn't help but laugh (on the inside, of course) at Sara's romantic misadventures. She had dated a friend and was outted by another friend. Her first real foray with a guy ends up with the guy having a sex change operation. She's someone else's 'experiment' when she first graduates from college. A single kiss with some man results in her being the object of his obsession for nearly half of her life.

"You know, I normally like to partake of whatever delights your former dalliances have to offer. This one, on the other hand, has been around the block more than once. She even permitted that Hispanic whore Ramirez to ravage her. Yes, she still has the body to attract and tempt whomever she chooses, but one never knows what they're being exposed to by sharing a bed with her."

He looked at me with more disgust than anyone else ever has. And Sara just stood there not saying anything. The blood was soaking her hands and she was still trying heroically to pull her restraints from the wall.

All of Duncan's attention was now turned on me. "Now, don't be too disappointed, Ms. Willows. I know that you were probably looking forward to this part of the artistic venture, but you'll just have to die disappointed."

"Catherine won't be the one dying here tonight," Sara said as she slipped the chain between her hands around his neck and pulled him backwards away from me. All of her efforts to pull the chains from the walls had finally paid off. One final yank while his attention was on me had given her the freedom she needed to rescue both of us.

They bumped into me as they struggled and knocked over nearly everything in the room that wasn't bolted down. I began to swing helplessly back and forth, twisting in the air. Each time my chains twisted me toward the door of the room we were in, I could see the advancing shadow nearing the fighting pair.


	29. Chapter 29

**Hidy Ho everyone! Thanks for all your reviews, it makes our day to both Scuby and I. Ok so let's see what's going on...**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)****

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**Chapter 29****: Sara**

"You know, I normally like to partake of whatever delights your former dalliances have to offer. This one, on the other hand, has been around the block more than once. She even permitted that Hispanic whore Ramirez to ravage her. Yes, she still has the body to attract  
and tempt whomever she chooses, but one never knows what they're being exposed to by sharing a bed with her."

I'm pulling on those fucking restraints with all my strength. I've been pulling on them all the while listening to Duncan the psychopath describing what he did to all the people who had the misfortune to be in my life under the label of 'lover'. I've been watching him touching and tainting Catherine's body.

My wrists are bleeding from the constant friction with the metal. I found a weak spot in the rusty pipe and I've been pulling on it like a maniac, slowly watching it give up. I'm crying, not only out of rage and hate toward Duncan, but toward myself. I brought all this pain to those people; I'm the reason why innocent lives were taken.

I put one foot against the wall and use it as leverage. I can feel the raw skin of my wrist burning as I pull even harder against my handcuffs. The pipe gives in little by little. One more inch and I'm free.

"Now, don't be too disappointed, Ms. Willows. I know that you were probably looking forward to this part of the artistic venture, but you'll just have to die disappointed," I hear Duncan saying.

I pull again, until my muscles are so tense that I'm shaking. I'm sweating abundantly and the pain of the effort is excruciating. The pipe finally gives in and I fall on my ass with the movement. Luckily, Duncan is too busy having fun to notice anything. I get up silently and walk to Duncan.

"Catherine won't be the one dying here tonight," I tell him firmly a heartbeat before slipping the chain of my restraints around his neck and tightening the loop. I pull him backward and use all my strength to strangle him. His hands come up automatically to the chain as he tries to free himself.

He walks backward so he crushes me against the wall. The impact cuts my breath, but I hold on. He repeats the same motion several times against different walls, making us spin every time, until he feels my grip weakening. I'm much lighter than he is and in one swift movement he uses the chain to throw me over his shoulder. I land painfully on the concrete, but get up fast and charge him again.

The chain linking my hands keeps me from having a good grip on him. As soon as my shoulder connect with his stomach, he's forced backwards but he holds on and he's quick to react because one of his arms passes under one of my shoulders. As he pulls on it, half my body is twisted upward. He starts to pound my back with his elbow, then hit my ribs with his fists. The pain makes me weak in my knees and I can only scream in response. I elbow him in the face with as much strength as I can muster. He pushes me violently face first against the wall and a split second later the bitter taste of iron runs through my mouth.

He pushes himself against me and then puts his mouth next to my ear. "Now, now baby. I didn't know you like it rough," he chuckles. "Oh, that's right, that bitch taught you to enjoy rough sex, didn't she?"

I hit him with the back of my head before stepping hard on his foot, making him lose his balance. I turn around a charge him again, making him stumble to the floor this time. I straddle him and push my chain around his neck again.

He's struggling not to choke and I just watch him as oxygen slowly leaves him. Not once does my conscience scream to me that this is bad. No the only voice I can hear right now is the inner one cheering me on and telling me to kill this fucker.

Suddenly I feel my hair being pulled with great force. The pain cuts my breath. My first reflex is to reach out for whoever is pulling. I follow my aggressor backward so he doesn't rip my hair from my scalp.

I'm thrown to the floor and kicks start to rain down on my ribs. "I can't leave you alone. Can I?"

I adopt a fetal position to protect me as much as I can, but the pain doesn't stop.

"Enough," Duncan's panting voice resounds.

The beating stops, but the pain remains. My hair is being pulled again, forcing me to my knees. I start to struggle, but stop all motion as I find myself staring down the barrel of a gun.

"Easy," Spencer or Duncan, I don't know which, says. Then he directs the gun towards Catherine. "One false move and she'll take one."

I stay still in spite of the pain, not moving a muscle. I'd eat my own heart right now if it was a guarantee to keep Cath safe, or at least alive. Her body is dangling, and she's watching us without any expression. I'm not sure she can move, not sure that whatever is running through her system has worn off yet.

I feel hot breath against the skin of my neck, like an army of maggots crawling under my skin. "You've been a really naughty girl, my love. But I forgive you, for I know what kind of spell she has cast on you," Duncan's voice whispers before laughing. He kisses the soft spot behind my ear and I have to tighten my lips in order not to gag. "Look at her, she's about to pay for your little misguided act of heroism."

"Duncan," I start before feeling his teeth sinking into my flesh.

"You should have thought about that two minutes ago," he says before letting go of my hair. "Get up," he orders me, pulling on my collar. My body follows. "Spencer," he calls his brother who's still pointing a gun at Cath. "Tie her to the pipe again and make sure she is unable to free herself again this time," he growls. He hands me over to Spencer like I am some kind of doll and takes the gun, only to put it against Cath's stomach. "Go on love and try to escape again," he says with a smile.

I allow Spencer to move me without any resistance. He removes the chain from one of my wrists, passing it around the pipe again at a different place, and then cuffs me again. He doesn't leave my side though; he just keeps smiling.

My body is hurting like hell and desperation is starting to take its toll on me. Obviously I won't get either Cath or I out of this on my own. And there's nobody here to help us.

Think Sara, think…

I close my eyes and try not to think that this is the end. I try not to think that Cath and I will die here like animals.

I hear Catherine growling in pain and my eyes fly open. Duncan is touching her here and there, his hands roaming all over her body. He turns Catherine around and looks at her with rapt attention, hypnotized by her body, completely lost in his twisted little world. I suddenly realize that if she can protest, then the drug in her system is wearing off. I have to do something and soon, because if Duncan starts to torture her again I won't be able to bear her screams.

"It's a sweet melody, don't you think?" Spencer chuckles, looking at me.

"And to think that I use to admire you," I tell him. "Tell me, do you enjoy being your brother's bitch?"

His smile fades in an instant. "I'm no one's bitch."

I laugh at him. "Oh yeah? That's not how I see it. Everything Duncan says, you do without protest. Yep, sounds to me like you're his bitch," I state. "I bet this wasn't even your idea," I say waiting for his reaction. He just shakes his head and looks away. I snort, "Of course, that goes without saying."

He snaps his head at me, and if looks could kill I'd be dead by now.

"I mean, it's not even like you were sharing a brain. Nope, he's the tough guy, the mastermind and you're the brainless bitch following his lead and doing his bidding."

Oxygen leaves my lungs as his fist crashes into my stomach. "Who's the bitch now?" he asks with rage.

"You sure hit like one," I provoke him and earn more blows. I cry out in pain, attracting Duncan's attention.

In two seconds, he's beside his brother and punches him hard. "What the fuck have I told you?!" Duncan spits at Spencer. "You do not touch her. How hard is it for that shitty brain of yours to get that?"

"Sorry," Spencer mumbles.

"Stop fucking around so I can focus," Duncan orders before returning to Cath. I can only giggle at the scene.

"You look like a dog who just went wee-wee on the carpet and whose master just punished him."

Spencer gets on his feet and moves to my side. He looks furious, but I just chuckle. "What are you going to do, spank me?" I pout a bit. "No you can't, you heard your master."

No, I haven't turned masochistic. Cath and I are obviously on our own now. Another obvious thing is that of our two psycho twins, one is practically harmless. Spencer is far from being Duncan's equal, and the only option offering itself to me right now is to distract Duncan by using Spencer.

I smile at Spencer, "See? You're his lackey, the faithful dog that he throws a bone to every now and then just to be sure he won't leave his side. You're pathetic, really pathetic," I snicker.

He's breathing slowly like a bull ready to charge, but he doesn't move, holding back everything. At least I am safe even if it's just temporary, I mean Spencer can't hurt me until Duncan decides otherwise, might as well use it to my advantage.

I keep my cool. "Don't you find that pathetic? The only time you actually get some is when your brother subdues a girl for you, when he plays with them and then in his great generosity gives you the sloppy seconds. Face it, you're one pathetic son of a bitch who has no life and no personality."

"Take that back!" he shouts.

"Spencer, if I have to tell you once more to shut the fuck up, so help me, you'll be crying when I'm done with you," Duncan growls.

"Yes Master," I whisper smiling at Spencer before chuckling again. "You know, when I think about it, you've always been the weaker one. In all the time I've known you, you never made a decision by yourself. You always waited for others to think for you, to tell you what to do."

"Shut up," he says through his teeth.

"What's wrong? Having a hard time remembering what I'm talking about?" I ask him. "Liam always had to tell you the answers to the tests so you wouldn't fail. I had to choose the school you'd go to because you wouldn't do it yourself. Aaron had to ask Ashley out for you because you wouldn't talk to her. Every time we had to cover your tracks so you wouldn't get caught for your little misdemeanors. And this is just the beginning. Your life has been nothing but a long list of things people did for you, since you couldn't do anything for yourself."

"Shut up," he repeats.

"You're a doormat. Always have been. Just once in your life you should be a man. How hard can that be? We had to fight for you, protect you from the other kids who were bullying you."

"SHUT UP!" he screams.

"Oh, did I hurt your feelings?" I snort.

His jaw is so tightly clenched that it might explode. The vein on his forehead is pulsing to the rhythm of his heartbeat. Then his look turns cold and a smile makes its way across his lips. "You know, when I took Melissa she sounded like an actress in a low budget porn movie," he says slowly. The smile on my lips disappears instantly, I feel my blood burning my veins but I tighten my fists not to lose control. "And I'll make your dear Catherine scream like that too, and all the while I'll be looking at you," he adds before licking his lips.

I use all my self control not to lose it now. I don't have time to make a mistake now, I must keep my cool. "I highly doubt it," I snort. "Please, Spence, we both know you that you've never satisfied a woman in your life," I chuckle. "But don't worry, just like I did everything else for you, I satisfied Ashley for you."

I know that I pulled the right string as his face pales a bit. I see the confidence in his eyes slowly fading.

"Liar," he breathes out through his teeth.

"She'd come to me almost everyday. I'd give her tenderness, affection, I'd make her laugh. We'd make out and then we'd have sex, great sex, fantastically great sex," I say slowly. "She'd be writhing beneath me, aching for my touch, chanting my name, begging me to give her more over and over again. Do you want to know the difference between you and I?" I ask him rhetorically. "I always gave her what you never did, orgasms, I showed her the moon and the stars, word is that you've never been good" I laugh darkly as pain appears on his features.

"You slut! Lying slut!" he spits. He is heaving, his face inches away from me. Suddenly he's yanked backwards, Duncan is holding him by the collar and throws him on the floor.

"I called you twice already," Duncan growls.

"Ask him Spence, ask your brother if I'm lying. Chances are that he was probably enjoying the show himself," I chuckle. "Go on, and ask if I'm lying," I dare him. "Spence, my friend, I want you to know that I satisfied Ashley completely," I tell him seriously.

Duncan laughs. "Yeah, me too," he says.

Spencer looks at him with eyes as round as saucer plates. "You slept with Ashley?" he asks with rage.

"Technically you did, I mean she thought it was you, but yeah I did, and I had a lot of fun," Duncan replies shrugging. "Now go get the clothes, we need to get Catherine ready," he adds before returning to Catherine.

In different circumstances I'd be laughing my ass off at Duncan's last revelation, that and the fact that the expression of Spencer is priceless. If my words had hurt him, Duncan's just ripped his heart out.

Spencer looks at his brother but doesn't move. "Ouch," I say in mock pain "Looks like somebody's been fucking you over," I state matter-of-factly. "So not satisfying women runs in the family then. I mean, even Ashley couldn't make the difference between one bad horse and the other. This is hilarious when you think about it," I snort.

Spencer gets up like he hadn't heard me and starts to pace like a caged animal. Great, now the sane brother has gone to Crazy Land as well.

I look at Duncan. He's lost in his contemplation of Cath, as if he was a painter and she was a blank canvas. He keeps running his hands over her body in a slow motion. He's so absorbed by her that he barely notices what's going on around him.

After what seems like an eternity, Spencer stops his pacing and puts his hand in his pocket, pulls out his cell phone, dials a number and then comes close to me to put it in my pocket. I'm about to protest but he feels it and punches me in the stomach, then he winks at me with a smile. I don't have time to process what's happening before he goes to his brother.

"Who else?" Spencer asks in a growl. Duncan doesn't tear his eyes off Cath at first, then Spencer pushes him, effectively breaking Duncan's trance. "Who else?" Spencer repeats.

"I thought I told you to go get the clothes for Catherine," Duncan states.

"Answer me! Who else did you fuck behind my back?" Spencer spits. "Uh? Tell me, you bastard!"

Duncan starts laughing, "Oh, is this about Ashley?"

"Who else?"

"Why do you care now? You never did before," Duncan laughs again.

In a heartbeat Spencer had thrown a mean hook that connected with Duncan's jaw.

Duncan looks stunned, surprised that his brother could raise a hand to him. He brings two fingers to his bottom lip, then looks at the blood on them.

"Who else?" Spencer says through his teeth.

Duncan smiles. "Depends, how many girlfriends have you had again?"

"Bastard!" Spencer exclaims before jumping on his brother. They start to fight and I couldn't tell who is overpowering whom.

I decide to take advantage of the fact that they aren't focused on either Cath or I to move and try to reach the spot where I broke the pipe earlier.

I move slowly holding the chain in my hands so it doesn't make too much noise. I keep a close eye on Spencer and Duncan, they are on the floor rolling and hitting each other.

Duncan uses his legs as a leverage to send Spencer off of him. They both stand up quickly and stay at a distance staring at each other like to lions ready to attack.

"We're brothers, and brothers share. What belongs to you, belongs to me, Spence," Duncan says with a sick smile.

"You fucked all of my girlfriends?" Spencer says in disbelief.

"I had to live in your shadow all my life, you don't think I was going to let you have all the fun on top of it?! What a selfish fuck you make!" Duncan replies. "I did everything for you, and you're giving me a hard time about little details?"

"You betrayed me!" Spencer spits.

"I betrayed you?" Duncan frowns.

"I don't care about the others, but Ashley?! You knew she was off limits! You knew!" Spencer shouts.

"There are no such things as limits between us, you know that," Duncan states. "I knew you liked her, so what?" he sniggers.

"I loved her!" Spencer corrects him before jumping on him again. "I loved her."

Here we go for round number two and this time Duncan is at a disadvantage. I take this new opportunity to move closer to the broken part of the pipe.

Spencer is straddling his brother and he's holding him by the collar before punching him. "I loved her! You had no right!"

Duncan struggles and finally takes the advantage, throwing his brother away once more. Both of them are panting and bleeding from the fight. "She was taking you away from me!" Duncan spits. "I had to do something, didn't I?"

Duncan starts to pace, Cath and I are completely forgotten. I move a little more carefully not to get their attention.

Fuck! No, no, no!

Please not that, fuck!

I can see the broken spot of the pipe, but I can't reach it, there a joint that holds the pipe to the wall that keeps me away from it. Shit! So close…

Think, Sara think…

I need to find a rusty spot. I did it once, surely I can do it again. I inspect the pipe thoroughly with urgency.

"She was taking you away from me! Don't you get that?! I couldn't let that happen. I told her to leave you alone, I pushed her away, but she'd always come back, burning your thoughts, spending all the time with you, obsessing over you. This slut didn't deserve it," Duncan pants, he's pacing furiously.

I, for my part start to pull on my restraints with renewed vigor, trying to break this fucking pipe again. And so help me, this time once I get free, I'll kill those bastards.

"She was sleeping with Sara and with me, never once did she care about you. I did everything to make her leave, to make her understand that she wasn't welcome. I tried to be nice, I tried to be tough, but she wouldn't leave. She was worse than a leech," Duncan continues.

"She left me because of you?" Spencer asks.

"I had to do it, I had to make her leave. I knew you liked her, so she didn't suffer…not much."

"What have you done?" Spencer's eyes get as round as saucer plates.

"Since she was playing with your heart…I played with hers. I took it out…"Duncan snorts as he loses himself in the memory. Three pairs of eyes are glue on him. Spencer is looking at him in disbelief, like the world had just fell on his shoulders, Cath and I are looking at him with fear, god only knows what he has in mind for us. We have to get out of here.

I turn to the pipe again and use my feet as leverage to break it. The tender flesh of my wrist starts to bleed again, but I grit my teeth at the pain and keep on pulling.

"I had to Spencer. She was taking you, your thoughts, your soul away from me, brother. I knew it broke your heart, but it was a necessary evil. When your heart was broken, my heart was broken. Don't you see? We are one, we share everything, the pain, the entertainments. I've spent my life providing you entertainment and happiness, I never let you down. And look what we've accomplished together…" Duncan smiles brightly. "Let's finish what we've started, I love you my brother, and as long as you have me, you don't need anything or anybody else."

Tears are dampening Spencer's face, tears of rage, he's breathing heavily, I don't think he realized who his brother was before this very instant.

He gets on his feet again and charges Duncan. This time he doesn't leave room for Duncan to move nor react. "You killed her!" he shouts, beating his brother to a pulp. Once Duncan is out of it, Spencer grabs a scalpel tightly in one fist and drives it in Duncan's shoulder. Duncan's cry of pain freezes my blood.

"This is for Ashley," Spencer says through his teeth before turning the scalpel in the wound.

Right now I'm not sure who's is crazier. I'm sure that I'm scared of the both of them. I look at the pipe and put all my strength on my task, one more pull and I'll be free again.

I look at them again and see Spencer standing up and looking for something. Duncan grits his teeth before pulling the scalpel out of his bleeding flesh. He gets up and runs to his brother. After another struggle, Duncan has Spencer pinned against a wall.

"How could you do this to me? After all I did for you?" he asks before stabbing his brother in the stomach once, twice… over and over again. Duncan steps back. "I gave my whole life for you, I sacrificed everything! And this is all the thanks I get?!" he spits before throwing the scalpel away.

Spencer falls down on his knees and starts to fight for breathing as he falls face down on the floor.

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

I pull harder on my chain in erratic movements. My heart is pounding in my chest, I can feel fear in every cell of my body. Time is running out.

"Fuck!" Duncan says before throwing the tray with all of his tools on the floor. He starts to pace holding his head in his hands, mumbling to himself. Spencer is slowly bleeding himself dry on the floor, we can hear him hiccupping as he's trying to breathe.

I feel the metal slowly giving in. I try to look around to see if I can have a weapon of fortune.

"We need to finish what we started," Duncan growls after moments of contemplative silence. He turns to his brother. "Get up and go get those clothes like I asked you," he orders him. Spencer barely moves, too busy dying in agony, I suppose. "Spence?" Duncan calls him. "Spencer!"

He kneels down and grabs Spencer's shoulder to turn him over. "Get the fuck up from the floor, hear me?!" he screams with anger. I can tell the exact moment when he realizes that his brother is not fine. "Spencer?...Spencer?" he says with a little panic. "You always do that!" he spits angrily. "Always fucking up my plans…Spencer!...Come on..." he pleaded desperately.

"Don't you die on me!" he spits. He puts his hand on his face and sighs. He grabs his hair in his fists "Fuck….think Duncan, think…" he stands up again. "I know what you need…I'll be back," he says before disappearing from the room.

I pull one last time on the pipe and finally free myself again. Once more, gravity provides me a painful landing on the floor but don't I dwell on my pain. I get up and turn to Cath.

"Hurry," she says with pain.

Now I have to find a way to get her down and then get us out before Psycho boy comes back.

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**I suppose that things could be worse...although there aren't really looking good... **Scuby**: what's next?**

**Thanks for reading.**


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30: Catherine**

**Disclaimer: Don't own 'em….**

I'm dangling, seemingly unable to speak or move, watching the action taking place around me. I summon every ounce of strength I have left not to cry out.

"Don't you die on me!" Duncan shouts at Spencer. He brings his hand up to his face and sighs. "Fuck….think Duncan, think…" and stands up again. "I know what you need…I'll be back," he says before disappearing from the room.

I watch as Sara pulls one last time on the pipe and finally frees herself --again. She turns to me, blood dripping from her wrists from her struggle.

For the first time in recent memory, I open my mouth to speak, "Hurry."

It takes a split second for it to register with Sara that I just spoke. Once it does, she smiles weakly in obvious relief before walking over and grabbing the chain that had been used to hoist me into my current position. She slowly lowers me to the floor, where I collapse into a heap.

"Can you stand?" she asks as she kneels in front of me, her own shackles clanging against the ground between us.

"I think I can," I utter as I try to push myself to my feet. I don't have the strength in my limbs to stand on my own and Sara quickly moves to help me.

She keeps a hand on me as she kneels down and grabs my pants. "Keep your hands on my shoulders babe and let's get these back on you. I don't think your shirt is going to work though."

My actions are unsteady and I nearly tumble over twice as she works quickly to put what's left of my clothes over my blood streaked and battered lower body. She's careful to avoid touching the fresh wounds that mar my flesh.

"It might be better for you to sit down while I try to figure out how to get us out of here," she says as she gingerly eases me back to the floor.

"Out of here? Have you noticed that there are no windows and only one door? One door, that even I can see doesn't have a doorknob. They used a key to leave this," I barely wave my arms around motioning around the room, "makeshift torture chamber."

Sara quickly moves to the dead body that was once Spencer and begins to rummage in his pockets. "We'll never get out of here if you go all girly hysterical on me, Cath. Spencer must have had a key on him somewhere," she turns his body over and continues to look through his pockets. "A-ha!" she says in a celebratory tone.

"You found the key to the door?" Even I can hear the hope in my voice.

She smiles sideways at me before saying, "No, I found the key to these chains." She fumbles with it and drops it on the floor several times before finally succeeding in sliding the persnickety key into the elusive keyhole. As she lets the shackles drop to the floor with a resonating clanging, she picks up one of the many scalpels splayed across the floor from the deadly struggle that took place between Duncan and Spencer.

She holds it out toward me as she comes closer. "Here, take this. In case he comes back in, you'll need this to protect yourself."

I can't help but laugh. "Yeah, nothing quite like bringing a knife to a gun fight. You DO remember that he has a gun, right?"

"Look, please just…calm down. I need to think," she says as she stands up and starts walking around the torture chamber.

Mumbling to myself I can't help but think aloud, "Yeah, I'll just sit here with this tiny little knife while your psycho stalker is out there looking for the dress he wants to put me in before he kills me."

"Yes!" Sara shouts.

I manage to stand up and walk toward where she's standing in a corner of the room. There's no way I would be able to walk a line for a sobriety check right now. I'm stumbling and walking as if I'm some creature in a bad horror movie. My arms are out in front of me to prevent a possible fall and I'm basically dragging one of my legs behind me across the floor.

"What did you find?" I prop myself against the wall. My odyssey across the room has left me feeling like I've just run a marathon.

Sara is moving boxes and as she does, a ladder that runs up the wall comes into view. Between the stack of boxes and the darkness of this crook, it was basically invisible.

She starts to climb up the ladder.

"What. Are. You. Doing?" Each word is punctuated with my displeasure, "You're climbing that damn ladder and leaving me down here? I don't think so!"

I move toward the base of the ladder and reach up unsteadily with my hands to take a rung.

"Damn it, Catherine. I need to make sure that hatch in the ceiling will open. Get off the damn ladder and wait for me."

I open my mouth to speak, but she cuts me off. "Now!"

I release the rung and take a step backwards and lean against the wall again. My eyes are locked on her as she uses her shoulder to push on the hatch that leads to the roof. No sooner does it fly open and I can see the night sky through the opening than she descends the ladder and is at my side.

"Okay babe, you're gonna have to climb the ladder and get to the roof. I'm gonna be right behind you. Think you can do that?" One of her hands is on my waist and the other is cupping my cheek. Her eyes are searching mine.

I just nod my head. Her hand leaves my cheek and moves to the base of my neck. Without hesitation, I lean forward and our lips meet in a short, sweet kiss. She pulls back and whispers against my lips, "I love you. Now, let's get you up that ladder."

I grab a rung and place my feet on the lowest one. Slowly, but methodically, I begin to move up the ladder.

"That's it, Cath. Just keep going slow. We're doing good, babe," she continues to encourage me. Any other time I could just hoist myself from the ladder onto the roof, but given my activities, or more precisely, my inactivity these last few hours, my muscles feel like they've atrophied. The pain I experience just trying to move myself from the ladder to the roof is excruciating, but I do succeed.

I am watching Sara climb onto the roof to join me when a voice sends chills to my core.

"Where do you think you're going?"

I look back down through the opening and past Sara and see Duncan immediately below her. She looks down at him and back up at me, before he jerks her down the ladder. I watch as she lands with a thud.

I can hear the two of them yelling and then I hear the sounds of a struggle.

At the same time, I hear sirens and see flashing lights in the distance. I move to the edge of the building and watch as car after car with flashing blue lights pulls into the empty lot of this seemingly abandoned building. I make out Liam as he runs toward the building. "Hurry! He has Sara," I shout down at him.

A lone gunshot rings out and I shudder as it reverberates through my body. I turn around slowly and face the hatch in the roof that would lead back to the torture chamber. I take a deep breath before sinking down to sit on the roof. I know that shot happened too soon for it to have come from the agents that were storming the building. And I know that Duncan had a gun at some point because it was aimed in my direction more than once. What I don't know is if Sara managed to get it from him during their struggle.

I close my eyes and prepare for the worst but hope for the best.

Over the pounding of my heart and the din of noise emanating from the parking lot, I can faintly make out feet falling on the rungs of the ladder that lead to the roof.

As the crown of a head peaks above the lip of the hatch, I backpedal on my ass until my back is firmly against the ledge of the building. Sara doesn't have blonde hair. Slowly, and with dramatic license, that psycho-fucking-path Duncan emerges onto the roof.

As he stands, none the worse for wear from his apparent struggle with Sara, he smirks at me.

"You didn't really think I'd let you get away, did you?" He takes a step toward me. "Why you two—why _she_—felt it necessary to mess with perfection, I'll never understand."

His hands are in his pockets and he's pacing back and forth in front of me. He stops occasionally and faces me, before going back to his pacing.

"A masterpiece. That's what every artist strives for. Everyone else—they were just practice. Practice! You were the canvas—my final canvas—for my masterpiece. Sara was to share in my delight. And now, because of you, she won't see this work of art. She won't see how beautiful I can make you. How beautiful I'm still going to make you."

He moves toward me, grabs me by the elbow and pulls me to my feet. He drags me toward the opening in the roof. He grabs a handful of my hair and forces me to my knees, holding my head over the opening. "See, there's my Sara. Look at that beautiful shade of red around her. LOOK AT HER," he shouts at me.

Hot tears start to stream down my face. He yanks back on my hair, effectively pulling me to my feet before walking me over to the edge of the building. Without releasing my hair, he grabs one of my wrists and twists it behind my back.

"Of course, now, the pavement is going to be the canvas and you're just going to be what I use to paint it. You see, the best part of being a genius is my ability to adapt. I can work with any medium."

I've never been a woman of few words and I certainly never expected that when my fate was so certain and so near, I'd be at a loss. In the face of my assured and promised demise, I am unable to summon even an incoherent monosyllabic rambling.

I close my eyes and wait for this madman to decide the moment I cease to exist. Over my ragged breathing and the sound of my blood pounding furiously through my veins, I make out the distinctive sound of a gun being cocked.

Suddenly it feels like I'm in one of those scenes of a movie where all the action around me either freezes or starts to move in really slow motion. I no longer hear the sirens on the units that have rolled up. I can't hear the sound of the agents trying to beat down the door to the torture chamber.

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**A/N: So and I are at an impasse...creative difference of opinion as to how the story develops from this point forward. Thus, my chapter is, well, a bit briefer than anticipated. But alas, have no fear, I'm sure SoFrost will dazzle you with her vision for how this develops.**


	31. Chapter 31

**It's raining...updates...since you all insisted here's the new chap...thanks for your reviews.**

**Enjoy**

**So ;)

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Chapter ****31: Sara**

"Damn it, Catherine. I need to make sure that hatch in the ceiling will open. Get off the damn ladder and wait for me," I order Catherine. She moves her lips but I don't give her a chance to form a word "Now!"

Duncan left the room after killing his brother thinking that he might have the remedy against death. I freed myself and took care of Cath. She's been quite sharp with her words ever since she find back the use of her tongue, as if she was trying to make up for the hours she has just spent being paralysed and unable to speak.

That's all her, fresh from being tortured and though still with cutting comments. And her stubbornness was back as well.

I just found a ladder leading to a hatch in the ceiling, which appears to be our only way out. I pray for the hatch to give in, but looks like my fears were unnecessary as the hatch gives in at the first collision with my shoulder.

I get down from the ladder and join Cath back down.

"Okay babe, you're gonna have to climb the ladder and get to the roof. I'm gonna be right behind you. Think you can do that?" I ask her looking at her in the eyes. I know that she doesn't have all her strength so every effort has to count. She nods and I kiss her softly "I love you. Now let's get you up that ladder."

She faces the ladder and though her movements are not completely coordinate she manages to find a steady and methodical way to climb up. I'm climbing right behind her, ready to intercept her if her strength was to play tricks on her.

"That's it, Cath. Just keep going slow. We're doing good, babe," I encourage her as she almost reaches the roof.

She finally reaches the roof and gets out of the chamber. I can feel the air of the night caressing my face, a few more rungs and I'm out. I'm looking up at Cath who's looking at me.

"Where do you think you're going?"

I turn my head down and see Duncan looking at me with rage. I try to keep my progression but he grips my ankle and pulls me down the ladder violently. After hitting some rungs, I land on the floor rather painfully.

He grabs my hair and pulls me on my feet before punching my stomach hard, effectively cutting my breath. "Leaving me so soon my love?" he spits. "Where's that slut?" he asks angrily, he looks around and then raises his head up to the roof. "I can't believe you!" he exclaims before hitting me again.

He throws me on the side and starts to walk to the ladder. I charge him, pushing him hard against the wall. I pull back and start to rain my fists on him with all my strength and desperation. He fights back and soon we are wrestling, putting one another down repeatedly. He's stronger than I am and more than once he overpowers me.

He's straddling me, his hands around my throat, choking me. "I gave you everything, I did more than anyone has ever done for you and all I get is your ingratitude?!" he shouts.

I'm writhing, trying to escape his grip but can't find enough room to move or to make him loose his grip. I dig my nails in one of his wrists while my other hand is roaming around on the floor trying to find something, anything that could help me. Blindly I reach the chain that use to hold me to the pipe and in one swift movement I hit Duncan's face. The shock is violent enough to make him lose balance, I hit him again whipping him with the chain until he's completely off me.

I stand up quickly and continue to whip him. He protects his face and then grabs one of my legs making me fall on the floor once more, I kick his face hard until he's out of it.

Once he doesn't move, I take the opportunity to get up again, I'm about to climb the ladder again when a gunshot rings through the chamber.

My breath is cut short and I feel as if I had been pushed forward. One second later I feel a burning pain coursing through my entire body before concentrating itself on my shoulder. I fall on my knees and then my face hit the floor.

Pain is so vivid that I can barely breathe or move.

I hear a metallic sound on the ground and then Duncan climbing the ladder. I want to move, but I don't seem to have any control on my body anymore. I feel my blood pouring from the little hole Duncan just made on my shoulder.

I feel darkness hovering above me. My eyelids suddenly seem to be made of steal.

I hear Duncan's voice but I can't make any words.

Get a grip Sidle, get a fucking grip.

I must not give in to the sweet oblivion of unconsciousness.

I try to move but my body is still numb. Come on Sidle, get the fuck up from the floor!

I grit my teeth and try to move once more, without any more success.

"…LOOK AT HER!" I hear Duncan scream.

Catherine.

He has Catherine.

That thought alone has the effect of a jolt of electricity. I ball my fists and grit my teeth, come what may, he will not take anyone more away from me.

Get up Sidle, now! You hear me? Get your fucking ass off the ground!

The mere thought of losing Catherine is enough to empower me with the strength of a thousand men.

I manage to move and get on my fours with difficulty. That little effort leaves me panting, and sweating. I take a deep breath and focus on the only thought, the only reason I have left to hold on. Catherine.

The pain I'm feeling now is nothing and won't ever be anything compare to what I'd feel if I was to lose her forever.

Come what may, I won't let that happening.

Once I'm standing up I feel dizzy and unsteady, but I shake myself into focus. I look down and see the source of the earlier metallic sound.

I bend down and pick up the gun that Duncan left behind. I hold it in a firm grip and walk to the ladder.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I can feel the blood dripping along my arm, I feel it throbbing in my temples.

I grit my teeth as unadulterated rage and hate invades me. I grip the rungs of the ladder and do my best not to make a sound as I climb up. I can hear Duncan ranting as I near the roof.

My heart is pounding as I'm moving, both from the effort of moving with a wounded arm and from the adrenaline pumping in my veins. I hold onto the rung tightly, careful not to slip, the blood on my hands not helping the matter.

I get out of the chamber and stand on the roof. Duncan is holding one of Cath's arms behind her back and has her hair in a firm grip. He's holding her close to the edge. He is so focus on his little speech that he doesn't even notice my arrival.

I use this at my advantage and move quietly to get closer to them.

"…Of course, now, the pavement is going to be the canvas and you're just going to be what I use to paint it. You see, the best part of being a genius is my ability to adapt. I can work with any medium," he tells her.

I cock the gun and aim it at his head. The sound is not lost on anyone as I can see his body tensing.

"One more move and I'll transform your head in a fucking abstract piece of art, Picasso," I say firmly through my teeth.

I get aware of my surrounding, like I was feeling everything tenfold. The air of the night is freezing me, and my heartbeat seems to be so strong that I could swear it can be heard. My hand is white from the death grip I have on the butt, it ask me a lot of effort to be still but my attention is on my goal.

My hand is steady though and the hate burning my chest is there ready to explode.

This is where everything ends.

* * *

**(putting hands in surrender) Hey, hey, for my defense I'd say that you only asked to know if Sara was okay and if she was the one holding the gun...I gave you your answer...now if you want to know what's next, go on and ask scuby ;)**

**Thanks for reading.**


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32: Catherine**

**Disclaimer: Don't own 'em…**

In the same instant that I hear the gun being cocked, I sense Duncan tensing up. His grip on me tightens as I hear Sara's sweet, yet pain-filled voice.

"One more move and I'll transform your head into a fucking abstract piece of art Picasso," she says to him.

He leans me forward a bit so that I'm looking over the edge of the building even more.

"And here I was worried that I might have left you for dead. I should have known that you're more of a fighter than my brother ever was. A few little stab wounds and he's dead. I put a bullet in you and you're still trying to save the day," he says as he juts me out even farther over the edge.

I stifle a cry. The last thing I want to do is give him a reason to push me or drop me.

"You're in a bit of a quandary, my love. See, you can't shoot me because she'll fall over the edge. And we both know that you're not willing to risk her life," his voice is as cold as ice.

"Just shoot the bastard, Sara," I instruct her. "It's okay babe. He won't be able to hurt anyone else. Just shoot him."

"_Just shoot the bastard. Just shoot him,_" he laughs in ridicule as he mocks me. He pulls me backwards so that his mouth is next to my ear, "Where was that selfless streak when you kicked my love to the curb? It was all about you and what you wanted then. Now, you want to sacrifice yourself. How fucking noble!"

With that, he jerks my head back even harder and twists my wrist into my back as he turns me around. Even with my head yanked back at this angle, I can see Sara. One arm is hanging lifelessly beside her body as blood drips from her clenched fist. My heart aches at the pain she must be in. Yet, she managed to climb that ladder to get up here to save me. And now, I'm being used as a shield by the bastard that's caused her nothing but hurt.

"I realize that there's no way I'm getting out of this situation unscathed," he articulates each syllable. "But what you need to realize is that she's not getting out of this unharmed."

With this last statement, Sara begins to take careful steps sideways toward the edge of the building so that she was even with us. Then she starts moving towards us; and as she does, Duncan starts sidestepping and moving us away from the edge. This dance continues until we've effectively changed positions—Sara now standing by the edge of the building and Duncan and I near the roof opening.

Sara's eyes appear heavy, and she's blinking rapidly. It's obviously taking a great deal of strength to hold that gun up. She's having a hard time holding her target steady as her hand visibly wavers from side to side.

"How much longer do you think you can stand up, Sara love? With the blood you've lost, how long do you think it will be before you pass out? And what do you think will happen to your precious Catherine—this filthy whore—when you do pass out?"

I've had it with being passive. Instead of just letting him hold me in this position without a fight, I decide to try and escape him. I start shaking my head side to side. I can feel hairs being ripped from my scalp by the roots. As I'm violently wrenching my head side to side to break his grasp, I start stomping with my feet, trying to clomp down on his toes. "Let me go, you sick fuck," I scream at him.

He finally releases my hair but only tightens his grip on my wrist. I'm fairly certain that my wrist is injured because I barely have any sensation in it.

"I don't know why you're bothering to fight me," he says through gritted teeth.

He leans down toward my ear and before he can speak, I snap my head backwards, connecting squarely with his nose. At once his grasp on me fails and I fall to my knees.

As he's grasping at his nose, I manage to scramble towards Sara. Her eyes are focused on Duncan and she's clearly waiting for an opportunity to squeeze a round off in his direction. He lunges toward me, but I elude his grasp. As I move behind Sara, her body shielding me from Duncan, he stands at his full height clearly within an arm's length of Sara. He's only inches from the gun.

"Go ahead, love. Pull the trigger. You know you want to. What's stopping you?" He taunts her.

I stand behind her and place a hand on her waist to reassure her. I speak in a low and steady tone. "Sara, don't do it. He's not worth it. The officers will be here in a few minutes. He'll go to jail. He won't hurt anyone else."

"Don't listen to her. Shoot me. Go ahead." His taunt comes full circle as he steps even closer to her, the gun touching his sternum.

Her voice is shaky and even though her hand is steady, I can feel the trembles travelling the length of her body. "You. Killed. Them. All."

As she's speaking, she raises the gun, visibly aiming at his head and calmly pulls the trigger as she moves it just to the right, firing over his shoulder. As the bullet leaves the chamber, I scream. Duncan's hand immediately flies up to his ear. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply before lifting his head and locking eyes with Sara. The bullet grazes his ear, but the explosion of that bullet leaving the barrel that close to his ear has to be incredibly painful.

"You don't have it in you to kill me. You've never had what it takes to seal the deal. Your mother, now, she was a killer. But you, you're just a coward. You hate me. I understand that. If I were in your shoes, there would be no debate. I would have killed me by now."

"Shut up," Sara says coolly as she steps toward him, forcing the gun into his chest once again. She falters, losing her balance, obviously from the loss of blood. It is the only sign of weakness that Duncan needs as he grabs the gun with both hands and simultaneously steps to the side. He may be a psychotic murderer, but at least he's smart enough to know how to fight for a gun without being shot with it in the struggle.

Sara falls to her knees as he holds the gun on her. I am still behind her and on my knees as well. I am trying to apply pressure to her wound, while desperately trying not to push so hard that she topples forward. I look down where her hand is on the roof now and no longer a clenched fist. In her bloody palm she holds several bullets. I can't help but think that my Sara is a genius as I take them from her hand and slide them into the pocket on my pants. All of this goes unnoticed by Duncan as he's still rubbing at his broken, bloody nose and having an equally hard time with his balance because of the bullet that went off beside his ear.

Sara tries to stand, but can't.

Duncan steps forward, the gun pointed over Sara at me. His eyes are trained on me, but he's talking to Sara, "What's wrong my love? Finding it hard to stand up to me? Did I sweep you off of your feet? This isn't quite how I planned things, but shooting your whore between the eyes will have to suffice for now." I scream as I see his finger applying more and more pressure to the trigger. Nothing happens.

As he pulls the trigger a second time, Sara musters some strength and pounces on him. Caught off-guard, Duncan falls to the roof. The gun is knocked loose from his hand and I immediately scamper across the roof and retrieve it.

I drop the magazine from the pistol and click the bullets I took from Sara's hand in it one by one. Then I slide the magazine back in the gun and stand up.

Sara is on her back and Duncan is on top of her.

"Get off of her!" I scream at him.

He looks up and laughs at me. He continues to laugh even when I raise the gun in his direction. He looks down at Sara and speaks, "Not only is she a whore, she's a stupid whore." He lifts his head and looks at me. "Weren't you paying attention when not once, but twice, the gun didn't go off?"

I level the gun, take sight and gently squeeze the trigger. The force of the impact knocks him off of Sara. He stands up and grabs his shoulder, "Ouch." He laughs at me. I take a step towards him, aim and fire. For a split second he's able to balance on one leg before he tumbles over and falls on his back.

I move to stand over him. The gun is aimed at his head. For the first time, I see the faintest glint of fear in his eyes. He's no longer in control.

"Catherine, don't do it." Sometime between me gaining control of the gun and putting two slugs in Duncan, Liam has made his way onto the roof. "We're here now, Catherine. We'll take care of this."

"Like you've taken care of things in the past?" I spit at him. "I don't think so. His twin brother was one of your best and oldest friends. There's no way you weren't a party to this. The only way this ends is with him dead."

I hear the crunch of gravel under boots as Liam comes closer. "I can't let you do that, Ms. Willows. He's going to pay for what he did. He'll get the needle. He's going to die. But he's not going to die at your discretion. The state of California has the first shot at killing him. Now, put down your gun."

"No," I say passionately. "He's killed so many. He's hurt her too much. He's going to pay."

All this time, a smug smile is plastered on that bastard's face. He even bothers to nod and wink as Liam is speaking to me.

"Baby, put the gun down. You're not a killer. He's not armed. You can't kill a man in cold blood. You can't do that," Sara pleads with me.

On some level, I know she's right. I can barely hear her over the pounding noise of my blood rushing through my veins. I want blood—his blood. "I was tortured, Sara! I think there's a lot I can do after going through that. Don't defend him. One shot, that's all it takes and we're done. We can go home. He'll never bother us again."

Both Duncan and Sara have started struggling to their feet. My aim is faltering.

Sara moves to my side and gently places her hand on top of the gun, lowers it and takes it in her hand. I release it, it's heaviness suddenly too much to bear.

As I stand and look at Duncan, I realize that Liam was correct. "You're right, he's not worth it. Let the state of California have its way with him."

Sara and I turn to walk away. I'm at her side and thankful that the two of us have both made it out of this situation alive.

In that instant, there's a roaring laugh and I can hear the crunching of gravel under foot. Sara whirls and fires. When I turn to look, I see both Sara and Liam with guns still trained on the now careening body of Duncan. As if being played in slow motion, a lazy trail of smoke is making its way from the barrel of both guns.

As the inert body of Duncan collapses in a heap on this roof, I can clearly define two fresh bullet holes—one squarely between the eyes and the other right through the heart.

Sara drops the gun and then falls face first on the roof. I fall to my knees at her side and roll her over.

Liam is shouting as he confirms that Duncan is dead, "Get those EMTs up here now."

I pull Sara into my lap and apply pressure once again to her wound.

The tears fall freely from my eyes onto her cheeks as I plead, "Stay with me baby. You're going to be okay."

Her eyes flutter open and shut as she tries to speak. I lean down closer to her so that I can hear anything she might say. Her voice is hoarse and barely audible when she mutters, "I love you."

I don't have an opportunity to answer before I'm pulled away from her and she's encircled by paramedics.

Liam comes over and grabs my arm, "Let's get you out of here."

I jerk my arm free of him and whirl around to face him. "You knew about this. You knew Spencer and you knew about his brother. YOU brought us out here to die. Don't fucking touch me," I'm shouting at him.

"Let's get you to the hospital and I'll explain everything I know and DON'T know on the way there," he says as he motions for me to descend down the ladder into the torture chamber once again.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," I toss at him over my shoulder as I go back to Sara where the EMTs are still trying to get her secure to a backboard.

I'm standing at a distance, hoping not to interfere with them getting her to the hospital as quickly as possible. I wait for them to get her down from the roof and then follow suit. As they place her in the back of the ambulance, one of the EMTs holds his hand out and helps me in. I ride to the hospital with her hand held in mine. She's unconscious and all they can do is monitor her vitals until we get to the hospital.

Once we pull up in the ER bay, they quickly bustle her out of the back of the ambulance and she disappears into a room. I try to follow her, but am quickly escorted to a bed where a nurse begins to examine my wounds. I try several times to find out how Sara is and each time I ask, I'm told that they're still working on her. They draw several vials of blood and clean and stitch my wounds. A nurse brings me some sweats to wear and I quickly dress. I stand and decide to find Sara on my own. My hastily made plan is quickly laid to waste as an older nurse approaches me and leads me back to the bed. "You can wait here. No wandering around the emergency room," she wags her finger in my face before turning and walking off.

A few minutes later, a hand is placed on my shoulder and I reel around in the bed, ready to use every bit of strength I have left to knock Liam off of his feet. I stop short when it's Flash's face I see. "What are you doing here?" I ask him quietly.

"I wanted to make sure you two were okay," he smiles slyly at me. "I helped Liam trace the call that Spencer made. We heard everything—well, enough, Cath. We know it was Duncan and Spencer."

In disbelief, I look at him, "What? You'll have to…what call did Spencer make? He's dead. There's no way he made a call."

"Well, it came from his phone. We heard the struggle between the two of them and then even after you and Sara managed to escape. I'd guess that he put the phone on one of you after he called Liam."

I pull him closer to me before sternly asking, "Is Liam in on this? Is he part of all of this?"

"If I was, I wouldn't have had to go to Flash to help with the trace on the phone call. I would have known where Spencer and Duncan had you," he says with no hint of tangible guilt belying his voice. I hadn't even noticed him entering the waiting room, much less approaching us.

Before I can interject anything, he continues, "I didn't know about Duncan. If I had, I would have dealt with this myself," he reaches out and runs his hand down from my shoulder to my elbow. "Have you heard anything about how she's doing?"

I audibly gulp and shudder as I start to speak, "She lost a lot of blood. She was unconscious the entire trip here. I've asked and asked and no one will tell me anything. That can't be good. What am I going to do if…"

Before I can finish, a doctor who barely looks older than either Greg or Flash appears at the foot of my bed, wringing his hands.

"How is Ms. Sidle?" Liam asks before I can even proffer a question.

The doctor takes a deep breath and looks from Liam to me. "You're Catherine?"

"Yes, I'm Catherine," I manage to say even though I am certain my voice will betray me.

He smiles down at me while he picks up my chart and looks through it. "Looks like you had a time of it. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine. Now how is Sara?" He takes out a pen light and looks in my eyes.

"Your blood work is clean, nothing in your system. You took a lot of stitches. None of the cuts were too deep," he continues.

I reach out and grab the chart from his hands and toss it across the room. "Answer my damn question. Is Sara okay?"

"Your doctor in Vegas should be able to remove these stitches in a week. Keep applying this salve and you should heal with minimal physical scarring. Now, as for Ms. Sidle, I'm sorry I can't give you any information on her."

"Excuse me? Why the fuck not?" I'm incredulous. He can't give me any information on Sara.

"Well, medical information about a patient can only be released to family or designated parties. We stringently follow HIPAA. And I'm sorry, but you're not a relative of Ms. Sidle's and there's nothing designating that we can release information to you."

Anger fills me to the point where I'm certain smoke is brimming from my ears. I swing my feet over the edge of the bed, stand up, and poke him in the chest. "She is my partner. You're going to tell me how she is right now. Right this moment. How is she?"

The doctor looks at Liam and Flash before turning back to me. "Like I said, Ms. Willows, I can only release that information to a relative or other designated individuals. Unless you can prove otherwise, I'm sorry, but I won't be giving you any information."

He turns and walks away. Without hesitation, Liam goes after him.

With Liam gone, Flash doesn't waste much time as he turns to me, "So, you two are together? I never stood a chance, did I?"

He wears the saddest puppy dog face I have ever seen. "No, Sara's has my heart. She always has and she always will. I don't have a clue as to what I will do if she's not okay."

I sink back down onto the bed and Flash sits beside me, putting an arm around my shoulders. "If there's any information to be had, Liam will get it out of that doctor."

As I sit there with my head on his shoulder, silently crying, I try to picture what my life would be like without Sara. And I can't. I can't envision never waking up to her again. I can't wrap my mind around not hearing her argue with Lindsey about the music she likes to play incredibly too loud. I can't perceive never having that taste which is so unique to her in my mouth again. I can't imagine my Sara, cold and lifeless, lying in a box all alone for all of eternity.

"She's not dead. She can't be," I begin. "My Sara is strong. She's a survivor. She'll be just fine. She's fine. She's not dead."

Flash tightens his grip on me and I lean further into his embrace, tears flowing freely down my face.

A few minutes later, Liam joins us again. His face is pale and ashen.

"Did he tell you anything?" I ask anxiously as I stand.

He runs his hand over his face and through his hair. "Yeah, he did. It's not good, Catherine. It's not good at all."

"I want to see her," I say as I try to move past him. "I want to see her now! Get out of my way."

He grabs me by the shoulders and keeps me from moving past him. "Catherine, she's alive, but barely," he sits me back down on the bed and stands in front of me. "She lost a lot of blood. The bullet hit bone and some of the fragments are lodged against a nerve—the suprascapular. They're going to do surgery to remove the fragments."

"But she's alive. That's what counts," I try to reason with him, a look of relief passing over my face. "She's alive," I gasp in a hushed whisper.

"Catherine, listen. Because she's lost so much blood, it's a bit iffy. At one point, her heart stopped."

I feel myself grow faint as I realize what that means. It means that she was dead. My Sara was dead. And that sends chills down my spine.

"Take me to her. I need to see her. Please, I'm begging you," I plead with him as I firmly grip the lapels of his jacket, before falling to my knees on the hospital floor. My cries are obviously drawing more attention than Liam is comfortable with as he pulls the curtain closed around the bed I'm in.

He pulls me to my feet and holds me up, "I'm sorry, Catherine, but she's already in surgery."

He takes my hand and leads me from the ER. "I'm going to take you to the waiting room so that you can wait on her. When she's out of surgery, they're going to come and get you. I called your sister and told her what was going on, but you really should call your daughter. She needs to hear your voice."

I'm a bad mother. In my haste to find out how Sara is, I've yet to think about my daughter. A total stranger did though. Liam leaves Flash and I sitting in the waiting room outside of Sara's operating room and goes off to contact Sara's brothers.

"Flash, can I use your phone?"

He takes it out and hands it to me, "Sure. I'll go find us some coffee. Be right back."

As he disappears down the hallway, I dial an all too familiar number. It's been ages since I talked to my daughter and I'm embarrassed about that.

"_Hello?"_ she answers on the other end.

"Linds? It's mom, sweetie," I stifle a sob when I hear her voice as the gravity of the situation dawns on me. Had Sara not done what she did, my baby would have been an orphan.

"_Mom! Are you okay? Aunt Nancy said you were hurt. What happened_?" She fires off questions rapidly and doesn't give me a chance to answer them. "_Are you in the hospital? Are you coming home soon?_"

"I'm fine sweetie. Just a few stitches. I'll be home in a couple of days. I just wanted to let you know that I'm okay."

There's a brief moment of silence on the other end and then she speaks again. "_Mom?_"

"Yeah, baby?"

"_Is Sara okay?_"

I begin to cry again, sob actually. "No, baby, she's not. She got hurt really bad. She's…she's in surgery now."

"_She'll be okay, mom. When you get to see her, tell her I miss her."_

That's my little angel. She's missed Sara since the day she left and tried on numerous occasions to get us back together. "I sure will, sweetie. You be good and I'll see you in a few days, okay? I love you, Linds."

I hang up with her and sit impatiently and wait on news from a doctor. Flash shows up with a cup of coffee and a donut. I sit there, holding the coffee in one hand and the donut in the other. Flash is beside me flipping through every magazine within reach and sipping on his coffee.

One hour passes and then another before a doctor comes into the waiting room. "Ms. Willows? I'm Dr. Doyle. I performed the operation on Ms. Sidle."

I spring up out of my seat and ask, "How is she? Can I see her?"

He motions for me to calm down with his hands, "She's out of surgery. We were able to repair most of the damage and remove the fragments that were pressing on her nerve."

"Is she going to be okay? Any permanent damage?" I'm like my daughter with my rapid fire questions.

"We'll know soon enough. She's being moved to a room now. You can wait there for her to wake up," he says as he walks me down the hall to a room.

He holds the door open for me to enter and then lets it close gently behind me.

There, inside the room, is Sara. She's attached to a heart monitor, various IVs and is on oxygen. I move to her bedside and reach out and touch her hair, gently tucking it behind her ear. I let my fingers trail down the side of her face before bending down and kissing her tenderly on the lips.

There's bruising on the side of her face, most likely where she fell after being shot or where he pulled her down the ladder. Her wrists are heavily bandaged, attesting to the self-inflicted damage she caused by wrestling with her manacles so much.

I grab a chair and move it as close to her bed as possible. Taking her hand in mine, I sit back in the chair and close my eyes. With the steady beeping of her heart monitor, very little time passes before I sleep overcomes me.


	33. Chapter 33

**Hey there, I'm sorry for the delay, I don't have any excuses except that I've been dragging my feet to write this chap...anyway, thank you all for the reviews.**

**Enjoy,**

**So ;)**

**ps: A special thanks to **Immi** even though it was only details, sometimes one word can make all the difference so thank you for helping me out.**

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**Chapter 33: Sara**

"_Just when were you going to tell me?" Cath said between her teeth as I entered the kitchen area, she put the dishes on the countertop with so much force I was pretty sure she made cracks on it._

"_When was I going to tell you what?" I frowned._

"_Don't play innocent with me Sidle," she replied sharply. The use of my last name told me that I was in trouble. Ever since we had started to date she never used my last name except when she was really pissed off, or eventually turned on, but something told me that she was nowhere near turned on. As far as I was concerned I hadn't done anything in my knowledge to deserve her anger right now. "We're both too old for playing these games."_

_She hadn't faced me once since I had come in and that was irritating me. "Care to explain me where does all this aggression come from?" I asked calmly._

"_Where does my aggression__ come from? Well maybe it's from all those rumors I've been hearing."_

"_What rumors?" I was more and more intrigued by the second._

"_What rumors? What rumors?" she mocked me using a voice she knows get on my nerves. _

"_You know that I barely __give any attention to the gravepine so you'll have to fill me in."_

"_To think…that I really thought you loved me…that this was going to work out…that you were different…not because you were a woman…but because you were you…"_

"_What? Wow, time out…" I tried._

"_You're no different…no fucking different…" she slammed a cabinet shut with violence. "You're all the same, aren't you?" she asked more rhetorically than anything because before I could place a sentence she rambled on "Tell me, is there a way I can have the sign on my forehead removed that everyone but me seems to notice…you know the one that says 'please fuck me over'…"_

_This was enough I grabbed her by the elbow and turned her around, effectively forcing her to face me "Have the decency to look at me when you say things like this," I said harshly. "Did I miss something? Because frankly I don't know what the hell you're talking about, or what did I do to deserve such a treatment."_

"_Get your hands off of me," she protested yanking her elbow out of my grip. "Really?" she snorted. "You told me you didn't have any feelings for him… and I had to hear from Hodges…HODGES of all people…that you were seen having dinner with him…"_

_I blinked at her blankly the meaning of her words slowly reaching my brain. "Him? Are we talking about Grissom? What's going on here?"_

"_Are we talking about Grissom?" she used her annoying voice again "Who the hell do you think we're talking about? Is there someone else too?" she asked. "Cause I was really under the impression that you were happy with me, Sara…you certainly had me fooled…"_

"_I am happy with you!" I replied._

"_Not happy enough obviously."_

"_I really don't know why you're angry at me right now."_

"_Everyone is under the impression that you're dating Grissom… 'she finally got what she wanted'… 'it's about time he realized how much she cared for him'… do you have any idea how much it hurt to hear those comments from people we work with?" _

"_What?? I'm not dating Grissom," I said firmly. "The only person I'm dating is going postal on me at the moment."_

"_Not dating him, just fucking him right? And you just happened to have dinner before hand…"_

"_I'm not dating or fucking Grissom," I replied calmly. I put my hands on her shoulders as she had started to sob, she jerked away immediately. I took a step closer to her._

"_Don't…"_

"_Cath, I'm not cheating on you."_

"_So why does everyone think you're with him now?"_

"_Cath, I have no idea," I told her honestly. "I love you and I'm not fucking around."_

"_Did you have dinner with him?"_

"_No."_

"_So this whole thing was just the product of someone's overactive imagination?"_

"_We weren't having dinner."_

"_Then what were you having Sara?"_

"_We were talking. I needed to talk to him."_

"_In a restaurant? You're expecting me to believe this?"_

"_He was waiting for his date, his date as in 'not me'." I clarified._

"_Why were you there Sara,__ you just happened to be in the restaurant he was having a date, right?" she repeated clearly not willing to believe what I was telling her._

"_I told y__ou I needed to talk to him, and no I didn't happen to be here, he gave me directions…"_

"_What was so important you had to go there to talk to him while he was waiting for his date?"_

"_I was running against the clock…"_

"_You know what? Forget it…"_

"_Damn it, Cath if you don't trust me we have a problem here!" I shouted_

"_I don't want your excuses…your convenient little stories…" she said dismissively._

"_I'm not excusing myself, I'm telling you the truth," I replied desperately. "I am not cheating on you!"_

"_Tell me what happened to make them think you two were on a date…" she dared me. "Something happened and I was told what it was…I'm just curious to see if you'll fess up to it." _

"_Cath, nothing happened. I'm not cheating. I'm not Eddie or Chris or any other slimeball__you had the misfortune to frequent."_

"_Tell me, what happened Sara," she repeated again._

"_I needed to see and talk to my supervisor about the case I was having, I__ needed advice and an opinion…" _

"_And he couldn't give you that over the phone…or was it the kiss he couldn't give you on the phone?" she wasn't giving me any chances._

"_I needed agreement for my course of action, I needed to talk to him and know that he would have my back if things were going south, because I was running against time and what I was about to do would put my ass on the line… He wasn't at the lab because he had gone to his date I called him and told me to join him there…I had to bother him during his date…nothing happened Cath…I was out there as fast as I came in," I explained._

"_What couldn't you have had this conversation over the phone Sara?!"_

"_What's the difference? Talking to him face to face or over the phone? It's not the matter. I didn't…Fuck it…"I growled in frustration. "You know what? Believe what you want Cath. I'm tired of having to defend myself all the time."_

_I knew that Cath always had fear__s about my feelings for Grissom or supposed feeling, but I thought that I had showed her better. I had always been honest with her regarding my feelings and if I could admit that I might had had feelings for Grissom at some point, those feelings were long dead and buried, and Cath was the only person I had feelings for. Apparently I wasn't reassuring her enough and her lack of trust in me wasn't making anything better, even more, it hurt me deeply._

"_Oh no you don't…" she said. "You don't get to decide when this is over. I get to decide and we're not done with this yet."_

"_Well I am done," I replied. "I thought I was showing you how much I love you in a more than blatant way, but it's not enough for you. I am done with it then…" I turned my heels and started to walk to the door._

"_If you walk out that door, don't come back…ever," she threatened through her tears._

_I didn't respond and kept my journey, I opened the door but stopped in mid-motion. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to cool off. Then her crying reached my ears and just like every time I heard that sound – which was rare luckily, I felt like my heart was ripped off my chest, and I felt dirty and mad at myself knowing that those tears were falling because of me. I closed the door and turned around only to find Cath on the floor holding herself as if not to shatter into pieces, sobbing violently, her beautiful face tainted with tears._

_I walked back to her kneeled down and took her in my arms, where she belonged. I held her tight, rocking her gently to soothe the pain I had just left. "Baby…I'm sorry," I said feeling pain coursing my entire being as I felt her sobs shaking her whole body. She was crying too hard to speak._

_I kept on rocking her gently holding her tight against me. "I'm really sorry baby…I'm sorry."_

"_I don't want to lose you…" she whispered against me and through her tears after calming herself a bit._

"_You're not going to lose me," I said. "I love you and I'm happy with you, I'm not going to walk out on this, I'm not crazy," I chuckled a bit._

"_Just…" she sniffled "Hodges…Grissom…dinner…" she said in between sobs "Kiss…jealous…" she finished before crying again. I was still able to fill the blanks. _

"_First, I'm going to make Hodges eat his balls before cutting him into little pieces," I said mentally preparing the torture and death of this lab rat. "Then I've never cheated on you, I am not cheating on you and I won't ever cheat on you. Yes I was with Grissom at the restaurant but trust me it was all work related and I certainly did not kiss him."_

"_Then why did he say you had?"_

_I sighed "According to the gravepine for the seven years I've been here Grissom and I had hot monkey sex in his office, in about every pieces of the lab, at a crime scene, in a hotel, to have a promotion and in every scenario they could come up with. I've never slept with Grissom, never, my point is that there are only BS travelling in the corridors, this is not the first rumor about me going through the gravepine and it might not be the last unfortunately, so do like I do, just ignore it," I told her._

"_You're not lying to me right?" she asked insecure._

"_Cath I love you and only you," I told her firmly before kissing her head._

"_I'm so scared of losing you."_

"_You won't lose me, ever, I promise."_

xxxxx

"You promised…You promised I wouldn't lose you that day…"

Cath?

"Funny how the first thing I think of right now is about this fight," she states before sighing. "You promised Sara, you promised, so don't you let me down…"

Why do I hear her voice from so far away? Who turned the light off? What can't I see anything?

Ugh…I feel like my brain was wrapped in cotton. "I was so scared to lose you that day…and I am so scared to lose you now…" I think she's crying.

I want to speak but I don't feel anything, I don't feel my body, which is quite creepy.

I feel tired, really tired.

"I dare you to walk out on me Sidle…don't you dare," she is crying and I think she's angry. "Baby…please… I can't be without you…come back to me, please come back to me…"

Trying as hard as I can I don't feel anything, just hear her voice, maybe I'm just in a dream and I'm so tired that my brain doesn't even have it to give me the images going with the sound.

I'm really tired…

xxxxx

"_Boo__…" a little voice called me using my beloved nickname, I turned around and see Aaron on the verge of tears. "Can you help me? It happened again…" he said before crying a bit. That's when the pungent smell of ammoniac reached my nose, looking down the wetness of his pyjamas bottom confirmed that I wasn't imagining it. I immediately rose from my bed where I was reading and walk to my baby brother._

"_Hey Squirt, it's ok," I gave him a reassuring smile. "Come on let's take care of this," I said before taking his little hand in mine._

"_I'm sorry," he replied hanging his head down._

"_That's alright," I took him to the bathroom and started to fill the tub with water. I looked around to find a bowl that I also filled with water and soap. Once the tub was ready I undressed Aaron and put his clothes in the bowl and then lifted him into the tub where he sat down. _

_I took some soap on a washcloth and started to rub his back gently in a motion I knew would soothe him. He was pouting bit still ashamed of his little accident. "You know, it takes more than one try for a knight to kill a dragon," I stated. My baby brother had always been fascinated by storied of knights, and he's greatest fantasy was to become a knight in or order to slay dragons._

"_I'm not a knight," he mumbled._

"_Of course you are. You always come to my help when I need it, you always defend me, you are brave and courageous and your heart is big, loyal and generous. Only knights have those qualities, the armor and the shield are just optional," I shrugged._

"_Really?" he looked at me with his beautiful green brown eyes._

"_Absolutely," I told him firmly before smiling at him brightly. "You're my little knight."_

"_I'm your knight," he repeated with a little smile._

"_One day you'll defeat Mockyloc, I promise," I said seriously. Mockyloc was the name of Aaron's bogeyman. Aaron was a dare devil and nothing ever stopped him, but Mockyloc was the only thing he really, really feared. Aaron was plague with nightmares where Mockyloc was tormenting him, most of the bad dreams ended up with him shaking like a leaf and wet. "Until that day come I'm going to take care of this bugger, think you can finish washing yourself clean while I kick Mockyloc's butt?"_

"_Yeah," he nodded still smiling._

_I kissed his head before ruffling his hair a bit. Then I handed him the washcloth before going back in the room to clean his bed._

_Once I was done, I came back in the bathroom with clean pj's for him. "There you go Squirt," I announced when I got back._

_I took him out of the bath, dried him and helped him to dress up again. He silently watched me washing his clothes and then cleaning my hands. After, I took his hand again and led him to my bed. I let him climb up first then I scooted over._

"_I love you Boo," he said in a sleepy voice._

"_I love you too Squirt," I kissed his head._

_I caressed his hair to lull him to sleep._

"_Boo?"_

"_Yeah?"_

"_You really think I will defeat Mockyloc?"_

"_You shall defeat him, young knight Squirt of Milpitas"_

_He giggled, and I kissed his head again._

"_Just be patient," I told him. "Patience…"_

xxxxx

"…Your patience….I've always admire that. You've always been more than patient with me. I was really a pain when it came to tell people about us even when it was inevitable I wouldn't let it go. I mean Linds knew…Nancy knew… hell my Mom knew after catching us in the pool…" I hear Cath talking again.

Please don't remind me of that event…

"Yet you never pushed me…you always went at my pace…" she sniffles.

Why can't I have a visual? Can't anybody turn the light on? Or am I dreaming again?

I hear Cath snorting. "Do you want to know something funny?" I try to use my mouth but I can't feel anything. "I think I fell for your defaults before falling for your qualities. It's weird I know, but those were the things that make you be…you," she chuckles. "Like your inability to make water boil or cook anything without burning it…your messiness, at least I know you're around…your stubbornness, even though sometimes you are wrong…your bad habit of never telling when you're hurt…I can't believe you're ready to bleed to death out of pride rather than say anything at all …" she laughs a bit but I can hear tears falling as well.

I start to feel warmth on a part of me…my hand I think. She's holding my hand and I can feel it…I'm not dreaming.

I focus and start to feel my whole body, I'm aware of my chest rising up and down and of the air getting in and out, I can hear my heart beating… good I'm not dead. I can't see though, oh please tell me I'm not blind, please, please don't let me be blind.

"Like the way you pout when you're upset," she continues. "Your habit to let one drop of orange juice in the bottle yet putting it back in the fridge nonetheless 'in case somebody is thirsty' like you always put it..." she laughs again "Or your annoying habit to move your leg up and down fast when you're impatient…"

I love that little rebellious lock of hair you always fight with. I feel my mouth stinging but I'm not sure I formed any words.

"I love…" She trails off "Baby?" she asks. "Babe, what did you say?"

So my thought past the barriers of my lips, apparently I didn't make any coherent word. I feel a light squeeze on my hand.

"Baby, come on… come back to me..." she asks.

My mind though is on my hand, I'm sure I'm squeezing her hand as hard as I can, but I still feel like my fingers were made of jelly.

"That's right…come back to me," she encourages me, I take it that she felt the squeeze. "Open your eyes babe, come back to me…"

My eyes aren't open? That would explain the lack of light.

I focus my attention on my eyelids, and moving them turn out to be as easy as pushing a mountain to make it move. Slowly but surely I saw bright, burning plain light, my eyes flutter at the aggression.

"That's it babe you're doing good…" Cath's voice seems to be closer each passing seconds.

My mouth is dry and my tongue feels like it was too big to fit in. "Your…lock…"the next words die in an incoherent sound. I try to swallow and give it another shot. "The…lock…" damn, I don't remember it being so hard to speak before.

"My lock? What?" Cath asks intrigued. She's leaning very close to hear me properly.

"…you fight with…never stays behind your ear…" I say I loud as I can, yet I'm aware that my voice is a mere whisper, a raspy mere whisper.

My eyes finally fall into focus and I finally see her properly. I stare at her with my eyes half closed. I swallow "That one," I add as the lock I was talking about falls forward tickling my cheek.

Whatever reply Cath was about to make was interrupted by the door being opened.

"Well, well, here's an excellent thing. Welcome back among the livings Miss Sidle," said a voice I never heard before. I can't take my eyes off Cath so I have yet to see who this voice belongs to. "If you'd allow me, Ms Willows," he said.

I squeeze Cath's hand not wanting her to go and she understands me right away "I'm right here," she says and though she moves away she doesn't let go of my hand.

I tear my eyes away from hers and focus on who I assume to be a doctor. "Miss Sidle, I'm Dr. Doyle, I took care of your wounds. You made quite a rough ride. How do you feel?" he asked as he pulls out a tiny flashlight out of his pocket.

"Ok…guess…" I manage.

"No pain at all?"

"Not really," I croak.

"Then the morphine hasn't worn off yet. I'd rather warn you now that painful hours are ahead," he states. "Alright, let's make a little check up."

He holds open one of my eyes and points the light at it and seems satisfied with the result, he repeats the same process with my other eye, then holds a finger in front of me so I follow its move. He listens to my heartbeat and my breathing, he checks the different bandages on me. His touch is gentle and careful.

"Good, this is very good," he states. "Do you remember what happened?"

I frown a bit and consult my brain to see if I have this information. It takes me some seconds but eventually I see the light "I got shot?"

"Yes, and you have injured your wrists pretty badly," he adds. "You have lost a lot of blood making the job pretty difficult for us. We have extract the bullet from your shoulder, it has done quite some damages, it touched a nerve and we'll be able to define in the next few days if you'll have any permanent damage. I'm optimistic, but I'd rather wait to be sure," he smiles at me.

As he talks to me, I take another step out of my lethargic state remembering exactly what happen until this precise moment in time.

I feel Cath's thumb making a gentle motion on the back of my hand.

"I'll let you take everything in, then a nurse will come to take care of your wounds and change your bandages," he announces before turning around and leaving the room.

I feel my whole body stinging, like a million ants were walking on me, I still feel like I was prisoner of a huge cotton ball though. I turn to Cath as soon as the door is closed again.

She stands up and gets closer to me. We stare at each other, emotions overwhelming us, so much to say yet words are faltering us. Her face is close to mine, so close I can drown in her eyes.

To hell with words…

I lift my head a bit and capture her lips in a firm and loving kiss. When she pulls back she has tears in her eyes. I swallow "Blueberry," I blurt out.

She chuckles through her tears. It's like a game now, well more like a private joke. When the air is heavy with unsaid and emotion, one of us say something completely and utterly unrelated, it always breaks the silence.

"I thought I had lost you…" she cries.

"I promised you wouldn't."

"You did…and here you are…"she sobs. "I love you so much…I don't know what I would do if…"

I lift the hand she's holding with great effort, effectively letting go of her hand and put back that lock I love so much behind her ear, then I rest my hand on her cheek and wipe her tears with my thumb. "I'm here," I state. "I love you… and you're stuck with me."

She smiles but her tears keep on falling. She leans in again and kisses me. "I love you," she says against my lips before kissing me once more.

I'm definitely alive, and the feel of her lips against mine was definitely worth fighting for.

She pulls back and sits down as close as she can from me, holding my hand in both her hands and against her cheek. She kisses my hand and caresses it in a soft motion.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"Now, I am," she kisses my hand. I stare at her "I'm fine baby, just some stitches here and there, but I'm fine."

"Good."

"Linds misses you," she says out of the blue. "I called her and she told me to let you know that she misses you."

I smile. "I miss her too."

"Whatever it takes, I'm ready to make every sacrifice that has to be done, but I'm not letting you out of my life anymore. I want to be with you, Sara, everyday and I want to wake up in your arms and go to bed the same way."

"I wouldn't have I any other way," I smile at her.

Her tears damp my hand but I don't mind. We stay silent and just lose ourselves in the closeness and the realization of what we have, what we have lost, and what we almost lost.

xxxxx

"Cath?" is the first word I mutter as I open my eyes. I drifted into sleep earlier and I feel the loss of her warm hands on mine like I had lost a limp.

"She's waiting outside…I asked her for five minutes alone with you."

"Liam," I frown and open my eyes completely.

He's there standing near my bed. "Hey there," he says softly.

"Hey."

"How are you?"

"Jumping around like an excited electric particle," I reply.

He snort "Stupid question…" he smiles. "Sorry."

"Morphine is a great companion for the moment," I tell him.

Silence fills the room. He's looking away and I'm just scrutinizing him. I think we're both thinking about what happened, both feeling guilty for being fooled for so many years.

"My timing sucked this time," he says suddenly looking at me again.

"Just a bit," I snort. "How did you find us anyway?"

"Spencer called me. Or maybe you did, his phone was in your pocket."

I frown. I remember being to busy trying to kill Duncan when my hands were partially free, too busy to make a call whatsoever. "He did," I reply after a moment, clearly picturing the moment Spencer put his phone in my pocket. "So he finally acted like a man," I think aloud.

"I'm so pissed not to have seen it coming," he says through his teeth.

"Join the club."

He sighs. "Denis and Jude are on their way. I should get going, I'm sure Catherine is already going crazy in the corridor."

His behaviour is unsettling me. He's never been like that before…so cold and distant.

"Take care of yourself," he says hastily, patting my hand and turning around.

"Liam," I call him. "Stay."

He turns back to me but he's avoiding the eye contact. I wait for him to speak but he doesn't.

"How are you?" I ask him. He keeps staring at the wall. Maybe he's angry at me. I can't blame him, after all I thought he was the killer.

"I doubt you," I tell him. "He..." I sigh "They played me like a violin and I doubted you," I confess. He still refuses to look at me. "I'm sorry."

He stays silent and I really don't like that.

"I feel like an ass. My stupidity killed Aaron, and it almost killed you…fuck it," he balls his fists. "I failed you. I spent all of my life next to this asshole and not once did I see his little game. How stupid one can be? If I had been smart enough maybe I would have saved all those lives, maybe Aaron would still be there…"

"I didn't see it coming either."

"You left Sara! You left for Vegas, I've spent the last 15 years of my life considering him like my closest friend. I didn't realized what was going on until he knocked me out! 15 years of lie, 15 years that I've probably helped to put you in danger," he protests. "What kind of friend does that make me?!"

I understand his rage. To think that all the time everything was right in front of us and that we didn't see it. But for him it's half of his life crumbling down. I can't even begin to imagine the guilt he feels right now.

I know I feel guilty for meeting all those people, for sharing moments of my life with them. If it wasn't for me they would be alive now. Yet somehow I think Liam's burden is heavier than mine at the moment. I know that our guilt won't ever really leave us.

I've lost enough people as it is to accept losing one more.

"I'm sorry…for failing you and Aaron…"

"Liam…"

"Sara…I…" he trails off. "How do you expect me to be able to look at you in the eyes after this?" he asks but doesn't wait for an answer. "I can't. I should have known, I should have done my job properly, instead of that I've been a brainless puppet on strings. And look at the losses."

He sighs again and turns to the door. "Take a good care of yourself Sara," he says with a finality I don't like. I sit up and grit my teeth as my body protests at the effort.

"You walk out of this door and the first thing I'll do when I get out of this bed is to kick your ass so badly I'll lose my shoe in your colon," I spit angrily. "Look at me you stupid ass," I order. He doesn't move at all. "Look at me!" I repeat. "Liam!"

He turns around and finally meets my gaze.

"If you wanted to piss me off, congratulation, you succeed," I continue. "How dare you walking out on me like that? How dare you?"

He doesn't answer, the expression in his eyes wavers between surprise, incomprehension, confusion and guilt.

"You made a mistake, the same I did. That makes us freaking humans! The bill is heavy enough without you adding to it. Since when do you take the easy ways out? I remember you having a dick and balls once, did you lose them when I was unconscious?"

"You…" he tries but I don't give him the opportunity to finish.

"You think I'm going to let you walk out, and turn your back on me? Are you freaking high?! You're going to stay at my side and we'll deal with all this together. I've lost one brother already and it's more than enough. I'd rather keep the three I got left," I say firmly.

He and I might not share genes but I consider him like my brother nonetheless, now more than ever.

His eyes widen a bit in surprise.

"That's right, you genius. You won't get rid of me anytime soon, got it?" I ask him. He stares at me in silence then nods a little. "Good, now get your ass back on this chair right now," I order him. He complies and sits down on the chair next to my bed, dragging it as close as he can get to the bed.

He stays still, looking lost. He looks at me again and I see how hurt he is. He's never been one to hide his emotions to the one he cares about. Pain oozes from him his features are contorted with sadness. The mask of impassivity he's been wearing slowly gives away. Then he starts to cry like a little boy who's been badly hurt. The only time I saw him so sad, desperate and lost was right after his mother's funeral when we were 15. I reach out with my good hand and pull him to me. His head rests against my stomach as he sobs.

I kiss his head and hold him, silently providing him as much comfort as I can.

"I got you Tigger," I say using the nickname I once gave him. "And I'm not letting you go,' I kiss his head again. His sobs are violent enough to reverberate in me, I just hold still, letting him know that I'm here for him.

The door opens silently. Cath's head pops in we look at each other and then she discreetly disappears again, giving Liam and I some privacy.

* * *

**Sara's nickname is 'Boo' as in Boo Radley in reference to the book _'To Kill a Mockingbird'_ from Harper Lee.**

**Thanks for reading.**


	34. Chapter 34

**Disclaimer: I don't own 'em…**

Chapter 34: Catherine

_Three weeks later_

I can hear Lindsey in the room talking animatedly to Sara. Today had been a rough day for Sar, and she needs her rest. I warned Lindsey about this.

"Lindsey, could you please, for the last time, leave Sara alone. I've told you that she needs her rest," my frustration with daughter is beyond evident. "Now go back…"

"Cath, leave her alone. She's not hurting me. I need the company," Sara says from our bed.

"You're supposed to be resting. Physical therapy was tough for you today. You can't rest if she's in here keeping you awake."

Lindsey finally turns around and glares at me, "I'm not keeping her awake. I'm telling her about Bryce."

I roll my eyes at the mention of her newest crush's name. "Lindsey, please."

She scoots off of the bed and brushes past me. I can hear her murmuring, "Not like she'll get any rest if you're in there either."

"Excuse me?" I say to her as she turns around to face me. "Do you want to repeat what you just said loud enough for me to hear it?"

She spins on her heel and looks at me with that all too typical 'you're a dumbass' expression before saying, "I said she won't get any rest if you're in there either."

"And just what is that comment supposed to mean, Linds?"

She just closes her eyes and shakes her head, "Mom, if you need me to tell you about the birds and bees—or in your case the birds and the birds—then you're going to have to fix me a cup of coffee, 'cause it'll be a long night."

The sound of Sara's laughter breaks through my slack-jawed haze. Lindsey just stands there, smiling and looking too smug for her age.

I leave her standing there as I enter the bedroom and shut the door. Sara is still cackling.

XXXXXX

_How do you explain to a 14 year old that you're dating a coworker that you had pretty much hated until recently? Even more importantly, how do you explain to that same 14 year-old that the person you're talking about dating is a woman?_

_I took a deep breath and tried to figure out how to start this. _

"_So what did you want to talk to me about that has you so nervous?" Lindsey asked me._

"_What do you mean, baby?"_

"_Uh, hello? I'm fourteen, not four. You took me out for pizza, a movie, and now ice-cream. The last time you did this, you told me that my turtle had died."_

_I push my bowl of ice cream away and take another deep breath. "I want to talk to you about Sara."_

"_What about Sara?" she says suspiciously with a raised eyebrow._

"_Well, I'm sure you've noticed that she comes over a little more these days," I know I'm blushing profusely._

"_Uh-huh," she says as she scoops another spoonful of ice cream into her mouth._

"_We've, uh, been spending more time together." This is way harder than I thought it would be._

"_Uh-huh," she says again. She hasn't even bothered to look up at me yet._

"_What am I trying to say here?" I ask rhetorically._

"_I think you're trying to figure out how to tell me that you're dating Sara," she says nonchalantly. _

"_You knew? How did you know?" _

"_Duh! I have eyes, Mom. And it's kinda hard to miss all the staring you two do at one another whenever you're in the same room."_

"_How do you feel about it? Are you okay with this—with me dating Sara?"_

"_Why wouldn't I be? It's not like you're dating some creepy old guy. Sara's actually cool. And she'll never hurt you like all those dicks you've dated."_

"_Lindsey! Don't use words like that," I reach over and pop the top of her hand._

"_What? It's true," she says as she spoons more ice cream into her mouth. "Besides, she's nice to me. She actually talks to me when she's over. And she wants us to do things together. Just don't do anything to screw it up, I suspect she gives really nice Christmas presents."_

XXXXXXXXXXX

"Oh baby, are you trying to catch flies there? Close your mouth," she says as she motions for me to join her on the bed.

"Did you…what she…where did she…" I still can't believe what my _baby_ said to me.

"She's not a kid anymore, Cath. She's a teenager. Quit treating her like she's six," Sara says as she takes my hand and pulls me even closer.

"You know," she says huskily as she runs her finger up my arm, "I've got most of my mobility back in my shoulder."

I waggle my eyebrows before turning to face her, "Really? Your therapy is going that well?"

"Mmmhmmmm," she says as she leans in to kiss me. "And I've been reading on some therapies I could do here…at home."

"I wouldn't want you to overdo it," I half murmur and half moan.

"The trick is," she says as she rolls over on top of me, "knowing exactly which motions to use."

She straddles my waist as her hands start to undo the buttons on my shirt. She spreads the shirt by moving her hands over my stomach and sweeping the fabric to the side, her fingertips tickling my ribs as they move over them delicately.

She covers the length of my body with hers and starts a slow exploration of my mouth. My hands move under her shirt and gently tug it over her head, breaking the kiss. I bring my fingers up to touch the scar on her shoulder and she closes her eyes. New skin is incredibly sensitive.

She covers that hand with hers and stretches it over my head, doing the same with the other hand. She slips satin loops over my hands and tugs on the fabric, tightening around my wrists.

"Sara!" I say through clenched teeth. "Lindsey is still here—not while she's here."

She winks and ducks her head, sucking a nipple into her mouth and nearly bringing me off of the bed. She rakes her nails down over my ribs and starts to kiss my stomach. She nips and gently bites her way back up between my breasts.

She runs her hand down over my hip and under my thigh, before settling herself firmly against me between my legs.

"Sara…please," I plead.

She looks at me with eyes darker than I ever recall seeing, "Do you know how much it turns me on for you to beg like that?"

She flicks her tongue out, wetting the closest nipple and then pulls back and blows on it, watching in wonder as it quickly hardens.

"Baby, please. It's been weeks, but Linds is here. I don't want her to…"

"LINDSEY!" Sara shouts. "LINDSEY WILLOWS!"

"I was on the computer. What do you want?" she asks through the closed door.

"Go downstairs and watch television. Turn the volume up really loud," she says through a smug grin.

I know I must have turned a million different shades of red at this point.

"Okay," she says without hesitation and then adds, "ewww, you're doing it aren't you? Gross! You could have waited til I was out of the house. But no…."

"Downstairs now," I toss at her.

It's not long before we hear her heavy footsteps plodding down the stairs and the television is turned on.

"I can't believe we're going to do this with her here," I squeak out as she bites down on a nipple.

She eases her bite on the nipple and starts to rub it with her tongue, gradually sucking more and more of my breast into her mouth.

I'm pulling on my restraints and arching my back, desperately wanting more contact with her.

She moves her mouth to my other breast as one hand moves between us and immediately heads south.

"I recall you being a bit more vocal in bed, Cath. What's the problem?"

I'm breathless as I start to speak, "The problem is that our daughter is downstairs and you've chosen this moment to reassert your kinky predilections into our sex life."

She pulls back and stares at me blankly, "What did you say?"

I groan in frustration, "You know I'm up for a kinky roll in the hay—handcuffs, whips, liquid latex—but we shouldn't do this," I pull on my satin restraints. "It should be reserved for later."

"No, no, I got that part. The other thing you said," she has tears in her eyes as she looks intently down at me.

"Baby, what's wrong? I said because Lindsey was downstairs. Why would that make you cry?" I shift under weight.

She bites her lip and wipes at her eyes, daring the tears that had been there to fall, "No, you said 'our daughter' instead of saying 'my daughter' or 'Lindsey.' You called her ours."

"She is, isn't she? I mean, if you're…babe, take these off of me, please," I ask of her.

She reaches up and slips the satin from around my wrists and then rolls over onto her side. I spoon her from behind, my body fitting hers perfectly.

I kiss the back of her shoulder as I drape one arm over her and slide the other under her neck.

"Sar, she's our daughter. She's ours. When I said I wanted to share my life with you—that I wanted you in it no matter what—I meant Lindsey, too. I don't know if she'll ever tell you, but she missed you terribly while we were apart. You had no bigger cheerleader than her. She loves you, baby. I dare say as much as I love you."

She turns in my arms to face me and instinctively, my hand moves to cup her face. We lay there, face to face, lost in one another's eyes.

A knock on the door breaks the spell. "If you're done having hot monkey sex, you think you could come and feed me? Maybe you guys can live on love, but I need food."

We both laugh as Sara rolls off of me and searches for her missing shirt.

We walk downstairs, hand in hand only to find Lindsey sitting at the bar in the kitchen with her chin propped up on her knuckles.

Sara walks up behind her and puts her hand on her back, "What's wrong, Linds? Why the long face?"

She spins around on the barstool and looks accusingly at Sara and then me. "Do you realize how much therapy I'm going to need because of this?" She shivers as she makes this statement. "It's one thing to kinda know my parents do it, but it's another to be sent downstairs and told to turn the television up so that I can't hear you."

Sara smiles as she slides her arms around me from behind and kisses my neck, "Blame your mom, Linds. If she wasn't so hot…"

"GROSS!" she jumps up from her stool, but I pull away from Sara quickly enough to grab her and pull her into a hug. "Seriously, Mom, you're taking years off of my life here. These are things that no kid should be exposed to. I hope you two have lots of money, because we're talking serious therapy. Order me a pizza and it'll make some of it go away."

XXXXXXX

"I can't believe you have to go back to work tomorrow," Sara purred into my ear as she made lethargic circles on my stomach with her hand.

We're cuddled up on the couch watching television.

"I know, babe. I have to tell you, I never thought I'd enjoy having this much time off from work, but just being here with you and Lindsey makes me wish I never had to go back there again," I confess as I turn my face to hers.

Our kiss is slow and timid at first. I let her control the pace. Her hand moves steadily higher and higher under my shirt until she cups my breast in her hand. Her thumb barely grazes my nipple and makes me moan, which is swallowed by our quickly intensifying kiss.

Sara is able to shift our positions so that she's sitting and I'm straddling her.

As always, we start out kissing. She is by far the best kisser I have ever met. She tastes of menthol and coffee. It's like eating one of those mint chocolates that you find in restaurants. I don't know how, but she's managed to maneuver my shirt off of me. I pull back from the kiss and notice it laying on the floor between us and the front door.

"How did you…"

She smirks, "Baby, I'm gifted like that. Don't even get me started on how quickly I can get you out of those panties."

I kiss her before gently tugging on her bottom lip with my teeth, "Who said I was wearing any?"

Her growl is feral as she pulls me back to her and begins to suck on my neck as her fingers twist at my nipples in increasing intensity.

"Easy baby," I warn her. "I do have to work tomorrow. Do you want me showing up with a huge hickey?"

She runs her fingers up to my hair and takes and handful before pulling my head to the side, "I want them to know you're mine. Do you have a problem with that?"

I groan in pleasured tinted with pain as I can feel her teeth tugging on the flesh of my neck, "Easy," I say through clenched teeth.

She releases her hold on my hair and kisses down over my collarbone. My hands move to the back of the couch, bracing myself as she lifts one breast to her mouth. She runs her tongue around my nipple before slowly closing her lips around it. She alternates between flicking her tongue back and forth across it and sucking on it.

My grip on the couch tightens and I start to move against her groin, trying desperately to relieve the building tension.

Her mouth moves to the other breast as one hand moves to the small of my back and the other cups me through my boxers. I press against her hand as soon as I feel it through my shorts. She moans, the vibrations on my nipple making me shudder against her.

She releases my nipple with a popping sound and I look down to find her looking up at me.

"I can feel how wet you are through your shorts. Tell me how bad you want me, Cath," she runs her tongue over her lips as she finishes her request.

"I want…"

"You want what, Cath?"

I can feel her pressing my shorts between my folds, dangerously close to where I want her bare fingers now.

"I want you to…"

"To what, baby? Don't be shy. Tell me what you want," she says with a smoky voice.

"To make me yours," I say as she presses even further into me through my shorts.

"Mmmm," she hums. "You're already mine."

She's right. I am already hers. She has every bit of me that she wants or will have.

"In that case," I take my hands from the back of the couch and place them on her shoulders, "I want you to show me why I'm yours. Fuck me. Fuck me good, baby."

She smiles up at me and instantly slides her fingers in through the leg on my boxers and deep inside me.

I groan and throw myself forward against her. My eyes are slammed shut. I can not only feel her sliding into me, I'm so wet I can hear it also. This turns me on even more.

I whimper each time her thumb grazes my clit.

"I love feeling you wrapped around my fingers," she whispers into my ear. "I can feel you gripping my fingers, trying to pull me deeper inside you. Do you know how empowering it is? How much of a turn on it is to know that I do this to you?"

I can't even speak. Even if I could make noise come out of the opening beneath my nose, I'm not sure it's a language anyone would understand. I'm trying my best to match her movements, moving down to meet her when she pushes into me and pulling back when she withdraws her fingers. I want to feel all of her in me.

She slips a third finger in me, but stills her movements as her thumb starts to slowly stroke my clit.

I find my voice, "Oh fuck, Sar. Don't stop. That feels so good, baby."

"You like that, you little slut?"

My movements slow down and I pull back as I look at her, "What did you just call me?"

Her eyes immediately reveal regret, "Baby, I'm sorry. I just…"

I smirk at her, "No, do it again. I liked that. I'll be your slut—and only yours."

She can only smile at me. I think she's slightly embarrassed that she said what she said and even more embarrassed or surprised to find out I liked it.

She bends her fingers forward inside me as she starts to move side to side over my clit—which she knows will send me over the edge quickly coupled with the position of her fingers.

"Oh god, Sar….so close baby…so…."

I never get a chance to finish that sentence as the front door opens and Lindsey walks in. I just freeze, unable to move. This must be how a deer feels when it crosses the road and sees a car coming toward it with the headlights on.

Lindsey still hasn't noticed me when someone else walks in behind her. He notices me though and his eyes go wide with shock.

"Cath, what's…." Sara starts but never completes.

"Mom! Oh! My! God! Oh my god!" Lindsey screams.

The young man beside Lindsey immediately turns his back to the scene.

At the sound of Lindsey's voice, Sara attempts to stand, which only throws me to the floor between the couch and coffee table. She walks toward Lindsey but only gets a few feet before I scream, "Shirt. I need my shirt, Sara."

She tosses it over the couch at me as she starts speaking to Lindsey. "Sweetie, what are you doing home so early?"

I slip the shirt on and stand and move to Sara's side. She's a shade of crimson I don't think you'd ever find on a color wheel. She holds her hand out toward the young man, "You must be Bryce. We've heard so much about you."

He turns around and looks at her hand and then up at her without actually taking it. "Nice to meet you, too."

Lindsey cuts her eyes at us before she turns to Bryce and says, "Would you mind waiting in my room. I need to have a little talk with my parents."

He wastes no time running up the stairs to her room. How he knew where her room was will definitely be a topic of discussion later, but for now, I think our daughter is about to scold us.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to sit on that couch and watch television again. I can't believe I just saw that! I'm pretty sure I'm going to need my retinas replaced or eye transplant surgery. Maybe someone can burn this from my memory with some sorta memory burning machine. You have a bedroom. Why would you do that down here? This," she motions with her arms around the living room, dining room and kitchen, "is family space. No sex. Strictly off-limits for sex. Sex is for the bedroom."

This earns a stifled snicker from Sara.

"No laughing," Lindsey wags her finger in Sara's direction. "I don't want to sit down for my Fruity Pebbles after you boinked on the dining room table."

Sara and I both blush and look at each other, something that doesn't go unnoticed by Lindsey.

Her mouth flies open and she is shaking her head from side to side, "Oh. My. God. You already have, haven't you? Don't answer that."

I take a step toward her, "Lindsey."

She steps backwards, putting her hands up in a motion for me to stop, "Don't you 'Lindsey' me. My boyfriend just saw you naked! Do you have any idea how humiliating that is?"

"Well, technically," Sara interjects, "he didn't see her naked. He saw her topless. And if you think about it, a good 25 pecent of Vegas _has_ seen her naked since she was a stripper once upon a time."

Before I realize what I've done, I've swung my arm backwards into her stomach. "Shut up, you're not helping."

Sara takes a step to the side, out of my reach.

Lindsey turns to walk away, only to turn around and come back. "What I don't get is how you could do this today. Today of all days. You knew Bryce was coming over today. And you pick today to screw on the couch."

"It's not the first time," Sara says only to suddenly stop when Lindsey and I both glare in her direction.

"Sweetie, we had no idea Bryce was coming today. If we had," I pause as Sara finishes for me.

"Yeah, we would have finished much sooner. Less foreplay," she says with a smile.

"Sara!" Lindsey and I both scream at her.

She puts her hands up in surrender, realizing that the odds are not in her favor when facing two Willows women.

"But you did know. I asked Sara about it the other night before you ran me out of the room," Lindsey argues.

"Okay, why would you ask Sara and not me?" I'm a little confused as to how I feel about this. She chose to approach Sara and ask about Bryce coming over instead of me. On one hand, it's good—she really sees Sara as a parent. On the other hand, she didn't ask me.

Lindsey laughs, "Easy. She was exhausted after physical therapy. She'd say 'yes' to just about anything. She was supposed to tell you about it, but I guess you two got all caught up in your whatever it was you were doing that night to ever talk about it. It's not my fault she forgot."

That's it, Lindsey. Blame Sara for screwing up here.

"Wait just a minute here," Sara says as she steps between the two of us and looks first at me and then Lindsey. "I was shot and almost died. Let's not forget that."

She quickly stepped back to the side as she realized her efforts to clear her name were in vain.

"I love both of you," Lindsey says as she points at each of us with a different hand, "but I'm very disappointed in the way the two of you are acting. I mean, let's be real for a moment here if we can. This behavior is what you two should be expecting out me. A teenager should not have to worry about coming home with her boyfriend to find her two moms going at it like monkeys at a zoo. And the worst part of is that you don't even seem to be the least bit sorry for the way you're acting. You're old!" She looks at Sara and then me before repeating herself, "Old! Act like it. You're supposed to wait until I'm in college or at a friend's house to have sex. I'm never, ever, never supposed to come home and see what I saw. Do you understand?"

Neither of us answers.

"Come on," she pleads. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," I say, hanging my head. I'm more embarrassed by the fact that her boyfriend saw me than anything else. And I totally understand her points. What I don't understand is when my little girl suddenly grew up. She sounds so much like an adult right now that it's scary.

"Sara?" Lindsey says her name, reminding her that she still hasn't answered.

She snaps her attention back to Lindsey. She looks at me intently before looking back to Lindsey. Then she walks over to me, puts her hands on either side of my face and pulls me to her. I'm tense at first. We were just scolded by our daughter about behavior like this. Soon enough, I give in and let her kiss me the way she wants.

"This is exactly what I'm talking about," Lindsey says as she slips hands between us and physically separates us.

"Lindsey, I love you. I hope you know that," Sara offers.

"I know, I know. And you love my mom, too," Lindsey says sarcastically.

"No, actually, I don't," she says as she shakes her head.

Ice settles in my stomach. She must sense it because she reaches out and takes my hand in hers.

"I don't love your mom. I'm in love with her. Normally, I'd say that there is nothing I wouldn't do for her—or for you. But I'm not about to stop showing your mother how much I love her just because it embarrasses you," Sara says as she pulls me back to face her. "I lost you once. And I almost lost you forever. I plan on spending whatever time I have left showing you how much and how deeply I am in love with you. And not even our whining daughter will stop that." She kisses me chastely on the lips before lifting her head to look at Lindsey, "Understand?"

Lindsey literally growls, "Grrrrr. Fine, whatever. But please, no more sex on the dining room table."

She trudges up the stairs to her room, leaving Sara and I alone in the living room.

"Your little girl is something else, Miss Sidle."

"As is your little girl, Ms. Willows," she laughs.

"You know," I say as I stand up on my tiptoes to kiss her lips, "we could always have one together. I mean, we've done such a wonderful job on her. It would seem like a waste of fine parenting skills if we didn't have one together."

She cocks her eyebrow at me, confusion and fear splashed across her face.

"Oh come on," I say seductively, "making one is so much fun."

She laughs as she lifts me slightly in a tight hug, "If Lindsey got mad about us having sex, how do you think she's going to feel about us making a baby?"

"I didn't hear her say one word about a baby. Did you?"

"I trust you completely, sweetie," she says as she takes my hand and leads me up the stairs. "If you think we should try, I'm game."

I can't help but add, "Did I mention how sexy you'd be pregnant?"

She stops so suddenly I slam into her and we fall on the landing at the top of the steps, right in front of Lindsey's door.

It swings open and we just look up at her and laugh. She rolls her eyes and slams the door shut.

**A/N: Frosty and I want to thank everyone that has read and reviewed this story. It was a learning experience for both of us. I'm sure we'd all agree that writing as an individual is a difficult endeavor. When you suffuse the opinions and ideas of another individual, however, it can become an even more daunting task. Thankfully, we live on two separate continents or there might have been bloodshed.**


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